London Calling

Being a longtime fan of classic British rock, it was vaguely satisfying to find myself wandering down the streets of Soho at 2 am a few nights ago, rushing to catch the last bus back to Oxford. I had the opening lyric to The Who's "Who Are You" rolling through my head on repeat: "I woke up in a Soho doorway, policeman knew my name." Now here I was, quickstepping right past the same bars I'd heard about in the songs, surrounded by friends after an evening of birthdays and conversation.

This isn't the only thing that's wonderful about living so close to London. When I first moved to Oxford, I remember planning exactly when I would catch the Oxford Tube, then staring out the window at the green fields we passed (wondering why we stopped to pick up passengers at a stop called 'Lucknow', which as far as I could tell was four houses in the middle of a field). When we entered London I looked around in awe at the hustle and bustle of the west end, then hopped on the Tube to--well, who knows. It was so long ago now I've forgotten.

Now, I stroll across the street whenever I can be bothered to catch whatever bus comes along for London. I can go just for dinner, for a drink, for a conference, and I can be back in my own flat by evening. That still hasn't deprived it of any of its wonder. A few weeks ago I took my older sister and we enjoyed imported American beers and veggie burgers from Borough Market along the Thames, not far from where Shakespeare had his Globe. We walked opposite the river from the Tower of London, in the shadow of the Shard, and then met a friend for curries in Brick Lane. Two days later, I was back in town having drinks in a riverboat with a friend from elementary school. From our window, we could see Big Ben and the London Eye making its lazy circles along the riverbank.

These are just a sampling of things to do in London. It can't even remotely describe what I'm trying to get at: the amazing diversity and life in the city. It's not very well organised and it's completely random. The White Tower where Anne Boleyn got her head removed is just around the corner from Canary Wharf.with its brand new skyscrapers. Many people dislike London for all its grey skies and (yes, occasionally) stuffy people, but now that I'm only a few weeks away from shuffling back to my side of the ocean . . . I'm going to miss it more than I originally thought.

It's been a great year. Now, as time marches on towards my flight, onwards and upwards, at the very least I can console myself with yet another lyric from The Who: "At each end of my life / is an open door."