Similar to when I landed in London, the first few weeks are the toughest to recalibrate to a new city. My first ports of call are (in no particular order): brunch with friends passing through town, dinner with family I haven’t seen in years, coffee with a childhood best friend who happens to be in town and searching out a new local coffee shop. I’ll chat with some strangers, get acquainted with my new school campus (oh yeah, that masters I’m doing…that ol’ thing) and see where the next few months take me.
London’s become my home. “My crescent city where my speech alone is understood and greeted as the natural noise of good” (Phillip Larkin, For Sidney Bechet). It feels like I’ve left Toronto all over again. In spite of all this uncertainty, I know I’ll be back soon. Hell! I left my chef knives with @HCForest – that’s a sure fire sign.
I don’t know which way to look when crossing the street and traffic brakes for pedestrians. Where am I?! I used to be calling from the future, now I’m sitting in past (from Greenwich time to Pacific time). Is this what happens when your home is the world? It certainly feels like a first world problem. I’m shoving off to see my folks in New York tomorrow. If anyone needs me I’ll be drinking champagne punch in Alphabet City and eating Babycakes NYC cupcakes for the next few days. Be gentle guys – the road is definitely getting more interesting.