Apologies for being quiet recently. On Wednesday, I received an e-mail asking me to pop down to London for a couple of days’ work. Eager to gain experience and put off revision, I leapt at the chance. Thursday morning found me sitting on a train at 7am with bleary eyes, wondering how I managed to drag myself out of bed at 6 again.
This is my second stint at working in London. As someone living in a small village outside a small town who originally came from an even smaller town in Wales, London terrifies me. It is big and it is mad and beautiful and I love it. Not to live in, y’know, because it would eat me alive, but to visit and to work in it is a wondrous place.
I love standing on the train platform at 6:50am with bleary eyes. I love finding a seat on the train and getting angry because some pompous businessman won’t shift their bag so I can sit down. I love coming out of Euston and either pouring out onto the pavement or down the escalators to the Underground. I love the confidence of knowing where I need to go, where to stand on the platform, and being alone with 800 other people and my thoughts on the escalator back up to street level.
When I’m out and about usually I have one eye on the street and the other on my phone, checking e-mails or Twitter or the news. I don’t do that in London. I can’t. How could you? There’s so much to look at. Everything is beautiful, even the ugly things, and everything is so big. I could look for a thousand years and never drink it all in.
I think my utter joy in London has been compounded by the fact that I have only ever been in two two areas I worked in — Camden and Islington — which are both quite nice, and I’ve only ever had to work in nice places with nice people. Maybe one day I’ll have to work in an utter shithole with people who make me want to cry, but maybe not. Maybe I’ll be able to keep London as my beautiful place to visit forever.
There’s nothing like four days doing something that makes your heart sing to remind you exactly what you’re revising. I could do this in the future, as my forever job, if I just get through my degree. It makes it all seem worth it.
Gosh, someone who loves travel into London. Hang on to that, my friend: you're the only one. x
ReplyDeleteBlonde - I think because my train is so much calmer than most. I don't live anywhere near London (over 2 hours by car) so people don't often think of living there to work in London. The train is quite quiet. On Mondays you occasionally have to give said business men steely looks to get a seat, but usually it's fine. And then I just sleep for the hour I'm on there — no stops, so nothing to wake me up.
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