London, a city of opportunities and failures, a city of light and much darkness, a city of highs and lows. What a wonderful, complicated, busy, unforgiving, and yet magical place it is. A mix of pride, self-doubt, and complexity. The first time I visited this British capital I was taken aback by the size and importance of things over here. Ten years later, I've been in and out of the city various times. In 2024 I arrive with excitement, ready for the challenge, ready to learn and live, and I know I will eventually leave needing to breathe, needing to take space.
Yesterday, as I was walking by the Thames at night, on the way home, London and I made peace. I figured that the city is just like my soul: we are in love, then we fight, then we come to terms with how things are, and we go on in harmony.
So this time around - that I'm spending who knows how much time here - I turn my thoughts and feelings from here into a writing experience. I observe, I note, I observe more – here is to The London Notes. This series of reflections will follow the format of The Goalless Diaries – it will be observations, thoughts, feelings brought to you from London.
11.01.2024
The first day that I'm writing a London Notes entry. I've only really arrived to the city, and London's January awaited me with a Budapest cold. Freezing out there, but at least sunny. So I decided to go for a long Sunday walk by the river Thames. This will likely become my usual. I made masala chai at home, and took it with me in my takeaway cup that I found in the university's up for grabs section. I've been successful in my quest to reduce my coffee consumption, so hence the choice of the tea. I walked very slowly and stopped many times. The cold mildly triggered my asthma. I stopped on each and every pier. I sat down and took a sip of tea. Only a few people were out – it was early, and Sunday – but all those were walking rapidly past me, or were on their Sunday running sessions. And as I really took my time, I noticed something that has so far never caught my attention. It was right in front of Oxo Tower. The Thames has a little sandy beach here. It's not very appealing in its winter colours. However, as I paid attention to it, I could hear how the waves of the river calmly reached up to the top of this sandy beach. I closed my eyes and for a moment. It was only me and the river, I was out in nature. Even in London one can find peace.
15.01.2024
From where I'm staying, it's a good 25-minute walk to teach the London School of Economics (where I'm now based). I leave somewhere between 8am and 8.30am. When I leave earlier, there's only a few others walking around, and the city is still in its dawn peace and quiet. When I leave a bit later, I walk with those who arrive to the city by train. They're all on their phones and they call or chat in various languages with people who are not in London. As if the city was a melting pot of everyone running away from home – and as if all their friends stayed away.
19.01.2024
As my morning walk to the LSE became a usual, I got familiar with the people I meet every day on the way.
The man in the office right in front of my window
My room's window looks over a 10-storey-building full of offices. The man who sits in the office right in front of me must be a hard worker. He arrives before 8am, even before I leave from home, and leaves later than I arrive back. I see him typing into Word documents, and I see him having meetings. I think eventually I may go over and say hi.
The homeless lady under Blackfriars Bridge
We say hi every morning, and she asks me what the time is. We smile at each other. I'm worried that she doesn't have enough covers in these cold nights.
The man selling fried peanuts
As I pass under Blackfriars bridge, I meet him on Fridays and weekends. I think he's by far the most relaxed person I've seen in London. As he is preparing fried peanuts, he is whistling, singing, he's observing others, or the other day I saw him observing how some pigeons were fighting for a peanut that fell. Meanwhile everyone in front of him is running to catch their trains.
The construction man by LSE
There's some renovation work taking place by LSE. As I arrive to the university and turn to the right towards my building, I see him smiling, chatting, and singing with his colleagues. I don't think he noticed that I noticed. He looks genuinely happy while others are running around in the morning rush.
The man singing in front of Tate Modern
On weekends, I still go for my morning walk. I come back home around 11am, and just before returning, I sit down on a bench in front of Tate Modern. This is the time when he starts signing right there. In between songs, he shares bits and pieces about his life and why certain songs are so important to him. He was born in Australia, from an affair of a British woman and an Italian man. It seems he had travelled extensively, and he says he's on good terms with his ex-wife. Singing seem to make him happy.
24.01.2024
In the past days I've had a constant urge of leaving London. Being anywhere else. I looked at the places taking off from City Airport and I was wondering what their destination is, thinking if I could go there as well. When there's stress at work, the pressure feels only exacerbated by London: it's hard to see the sky among the many grey buildings.
26.01.2024
Even though I've been through a couple of stressful days, I decided not to give up on the activities I like. In the winter of London I think it's especially important to keep going out, to keep trying to make friends, to socialise.
28.01.2024
A flatmate saw me cooking using fresh vegetables I got on a fantastic weekend market I have discovered through a friend. The flatmate complimented on me taking such a good care of myself. It took me aback: I think eating well, sleeping well, exercising should be the baseline, and good care only starts from there.
30.01.2024
I had a conversation with a previous mentor of mine. As we spoke about my potential future next steps in my career, she mentioned that I could consider going back to Hungary. I don't think she could have known how scary that idea felt like. Growing up, all I kept hearing was that all grass was greener in Western Europe, and that if one wanted to "make it", then one had to be there, in the West. One of the first terms we learnt in English class, as early as in elementary school, was brain drain. The teacher tried to emphasise that brain drain has negative consequences, because the promising young people leave from countries like Hungary. Nevertheless, I still remember that we all all wanted to be those young people, the ones who made it to the West - they were the successful ones. I wanted to be the object of brain drain too. I wanted to be wanted elsewhere.
31.01.2024
In London one has to pay attention to not making work equal their identity. Everyone is here because they're looking for a better world or better success in life. So they get on to doing their work with such intense hours and depth that it's easy to question if we are doing just enough or not.
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