It’s November: increasingly cold, dark and drizzly, and basically everyone is ill. I only just got my voice back. Then again, it’s already November. I’ve lived in London for two months now and this entirely sneaked up on me.
It’s been a nice two months of building mini-traditions and families in my radius of London. By now it’s ingrained in my head that Fleet Street coffee dates start every Monday morning and games nights with my adopted flat end every Wednesday. Then there are the surprises that stir up the routine: We’ve been adopted by a cat and we spent Saturday night outside in our pajamas as the fire brigade hosed down a fire in our building (nobody was hurt).
We take on this time of year and light it up with all sorts of sparkles. The spectacular Christmas lights are their own kind of silver lining to the pressing harshness of November.
London is a city of the night time. The dark brings it alive and paves the streets with a sense of infinite possibility and infinite fairy lights. Busy, Responsible London puts on its make up and changes into Wonderland London.
Lights and all kinds of warm (with the exception of aforementioned house fires) are our barricade. Coffee consumption in necessary for survival as much as smiley friends and tight hugs.
Keep warm and sparkly everyone