I [heart] London

I’m wilting. Wilting like a dead flower or a weeping willow or, erm, things that wilt. It is simply too hot. And I don’t want to be quintessentially British and complain about the hot weather (even though that’s exactly what I’m doing) so I will try and be positive. It’s great that we’re having nice weather. London in the summertime is beautiful and special and beautiful and special (it’s the heat). So special that Anthony Keidis even wrote a song about it. But it’s not hard for me to sing the praises of London in the summertime because I love London all year round.

I sold my car years ago so I don’t have to worry about the congestion charge. I don’t have my own place so I don’t have to think about council tax just yet (though house prices are darkening the horizon). I grew up in East London so lack of green spaces is something I’m used to and I can be just as rude and cold as the next person so that doesn’t usually affect me too much. The only thing I can complain about is the Northern Line but even that I can avoid if I need to. And whilst this weather is making me droop and wilt and create my own little hole in the ozone layer with the amount of Impulse Body Spray I’m using, I’m still not going to complain because London is great.

London is great because the view from St. Paul’s Cathedral is beautiful. London is great because you will find a Muslim person eating lunch next to a Jewish person on a park bench. London is great because of the Somerset House fountains at night and because of the Serpentine. London is great because you can be as pretentious as you want and shop on Carnaby Street or laugh at pretentious people shopping on Carnaby Street. London is great because of Big Ben and Westminster Abbey and Tower Bridge and the Tower of London. It’s great because of that dinosaur in the Natural History Museum. The gorgeous Jose Mourinho lives here. We have Hyde Park and Hampstead Heath and Richmond Park and the Queen’s Walk. You can find any type of cuisine you like. The restaurants are amazing. We don’t speak French. Abbey Road. The London Eye (don’t judge unless you’ve been on it). Brick Lane and Chinatown and Spitafields and Billingsgate and Shoreditch and damnit, even Hackney. 300 languages. Great universities. Wembley Stadium. The music and entertainment. Canary Wharf lit up at night. Maple Krispy Kreme donuts.

*Realises there’s gum stuck on her shoe*

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