My London is circling Heathrow on our descent while playing The 1975’s “Robbers” on repeat. My London is a tree on Primrose Hill, sitting underneath it year after year, a bit like marking my growth on a door frame.
My London is a Thai restaurant with only six small tables tucked into a room in a square across from the Natural History Museum. My London is a bench on the banks of the Thames, the Shard barely visible behind a brown stone church on the opposite bank.
My London is a mocha and a notebook and all sorts of thoughts ready to wrestle with the blank page. My London is raindrops and wind gusts and grey skies spread wide.
This is an essay on what makes a city feel like home + photos from my trip to London in March 2018.
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