Welcome Home, Son

The city is a loud place. Every city is loud. Car horns, buses, people cursing as they pass by, sirens…Yet it all sounds different here in London.

As I left the flat for my adventures today, camera in my bag, Oyster Card in my hand, I was excited to continue showing my friends and family my London. But as I got to my destination, Borough Market, my desire to photograph my journey faded. I got lost in my senses. The smells: Curries, burgers, pies, and pastries. The sights: beautifully constructed foods, the greenery, the old church sitting across the way, tourists and locals alike, devouring their delicious meals. The sounds: trains rushing past, an organ being played in the church, pigeons chirping, the squeak of bus brakes.

I know to most, this may not seem all too appealing. But for me, it is my paradise. There is something about this place that is so peaceful. Out here, I feel at one with the world. I’m meant to be here. This really is my second home.

Though I haven’t traveled as much as many I know, I have seen my fair share of the world. And I have never felt this kind of connection with any other place. And it’s the only place I’ll ever continue to come back to. I will never tire of London

When I landed in London Town a couple of weeks ago, as well as every day since, this song has been stuck in my head:

I have only 1 week left. I’ll savor it as much as I can until next year.


Mary Jane xx

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