How I fell back in love with London

London called for this wide-eyed Norfolk boy in the Spring of 1997, following the herd to find fame and fortune (or at least a good job and fun times, not necessarily in that order).? Patsy Kensit and Liam Gallagher on a Vanity Fair front cover declaring “London Swings Again!”, the sun always shining, intoxicating times fuelled by a new government and optimism oozing through the city’s veins.?

The big smoke was a big playground for this impressionable graduate; lazy days spent cavorting around Covent Garden, electric nights at Ministry of Sound, Brixton and beyond. I even found time to start building a career amid all the fun.

Fast forward a quarter of a century (during which time the bars and clubs gave way to restaurants and theatres as I lurched from one south London enclave to another - always one step-ahead of the gentrification) and I find myself nestled ?in the bosom of the ?suburbs. A husband and a father. A mortgage holder and dog owner. Membership of the local tennis club. A garden shed and lawn mower. Living the suburban dream!

As age and responsibilities grew, and energy and disposable income diminished, London became a place more to be endured than enjoyed. Aside from the occasional special family occasion or miserable afternoon in the away end of Stamford Bridge or the Emirates, London meant the commute … in and out SAS style, get the job done, get the hell out of dodge. Less smelling the roses, more holding my nose. ?Covid and its subsequent hangover certainly did nothing for the malaise.

At the beginning of this year my son landed a role in a West End musical*. A wonderful, bonkers, unexpected, turn of events.? He’s having the time of his life and we’re all very proud of him. The logistics required to shepherd him in and out of home and school and to and from Leicester Square are complicated but, with a team effort, manageable.

What it has meant is that I’ve found myself with hours and hours to kill in the West End, in between the stage door drop-off and pick-ups.? As a non-drinker these days without the pub to fall back on (although I know where to get a Lucky Saint on draft and shout out to my new friends at Club Soda on Drury Lane!), my options were somewhat limited ….

… except they weren’t, far, far from it. ?Back in the day I would flick through Time Out and make a mental note of all the things to see and do, before trotting off to the pub and forgetting all about it.

Older and wiser, I’ve seized this unexpected opportunity and thrown myself into the best, and on occasions less than best, of what our capital city has to offer

And what a few months its been, a period in which I have been entertained and/or informed by more comedians, plays, musicals, podcast recordings, art galleries, films, museums, classical music recitals (alright, it was just the one) than in the last 10 years combined.?

You would be forgiven for asking what this has done to my bank account but tickets for events can be great value, particularly if you’re canny and sniff out last minute seats, and compare very favourably to your average night in the pub.? And in the case of the museums and galleries, well they are staggeringly free (FREE!), thanks to the aforementioned Labour government.

In this era of mobile, agile working, when the need arises to do some work over the weekend or late at night while prowling the streets, it’s not a problem.? Indeed, it’s amazing how productive you can be on a Sunday afternoon in the café of the National Theatre – great coffee, cake and wi-fi!

But my biggest rediscovery of London has genuinely been the vibes (man).? Saturday afternoons fizz and pop with a kaleidoscope of colours, sights and sounds; the teenage tribes, football lads, hen and stag dos, families, students, tourists, coachloads of older people, all converging on London; celebrating each other, being together, dressing up or dressing down, living their best lives.

Along the way I’ve met some brilliant people, from the Dortmund fans in town for the Champions League final, the Japanese students in the café at the National Portrait Gallery and the lady from Swindon at the Josh Pugh gig.

I am very aware of this rose tinted view of London through the lens of a privileged middle-aged white man.? The levels of homelessness and poverty is shocking and seems to be getting worse.? The transport system during peak times is creaking at the seams. The crime statistics are of course upsetting and while I’ve always felt safe, I am a 6 ft 14 stone white male with a penchant for Stone Island.

That is a conversation for another time. But I have truly felt invigorated and inspired by our capital city and who knows, if the weather gets its arse into gear, I have the prospect of rediscovering the wonderful parks over the Summer months too.

Right, what’s on at the Barbican this weekend …

*for those asking, it’s called Standing At the Sky’s Edge at the Gillian Lynne theatre on Drury Lane and it’s also about the power of a city (Sheffield) and community – in its last few weeks if you fancy catching it!

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