FAST AND GRUBBY
I lived in London for fifteen years. From 86ish to 01ish.
It was my city. And I liked it more and more each year.
And did not want to leave.
But ran off to Edinburgh with a Russian Jewish Diamond Heiress Novelist.
Which all went pearshaped pretty sharpish, but is all right by me cos it got me out of London. Which is the best move I ever made. And considerably improved my life.
Whether I was such a good thing in her life is another matter. I severely doubt it, though I did try.
In fact I sometimes wonder if I stole her luck… she’d always been pretty privileged and lucky and maybe I nicked her luck from then on.
So I never missed London. And when I come back here I find it way way too unnecessarily fast and grubby.
I think that, when I lived here, I liked the fact it was so fast and grubby, but now, after living in Edinburgh and trotting nomadically around the world, it just don’t seem necessary.
Anyone know what i mean?