Replacing the "fuss" with the "buzz"

A former boss/colleague, now friend Peter Cohen , recently posted a heart-warming story about "his London" and what the City affectionately and colloquially known as the Big Smoke in the UK, means to him. It prompted me to chronicle these reflections of my own London experience.

Arriving in the UK as an immigrant family in 1999, with just the suitcases we could carry, a two-year old, ￡1,000 in travellers' cheques and the dreams of building a new life, London seemed so out of reach. People had told us that London was busy and expensive, both of which we subsequently found to be true.

In one sense, the tech jobs that we felt would give us the best chance to get started with a new life weren't really in the City. They were predominantly in areas like the M4 corridor (west of London), and prominent university cities like Cambridge (and the other one - to be explained later) to the north. We picked Cambridge, enchanted by its charm... oh, and principally the fact that we connected with some extended family there, who were able to offer us a room in their house while we settled. (Forever grateful for the loft room at the Walkers! We have told them many times over the years.) The reference to the "other" prominent university city stems from the great rivalry between Cambridge and the one with the "O", and we became staunchly Cambridge. To utter the "O-word" in our house is considered profanity, and that is not in our character.

We also felt that London's busyness and high living costs would hamper our new beginnings back then. It took us about 8 weeks to save up for our first day trip into London by train. WOW! It was an explosion of the senses. New sights, new sounds, new smells. It was everything we had seen in travel books and brochures. Travelling on the underground, seeing Picadilly Circus with our own eyes.

With my work in Cambridge and then commuting part-time to Reading, there were occasions when I got to travel into London and enjoy meeting clients, sometimes at their lavish offices or at local coffee shops or restaurants, where my eyes watered at the cost of a cup of coffee or a meal. But, there certainly was a professional buzz about London that intrigued me.

When an opportunity to work for a growing and innovative telecoms company in Brentford (west London) opened up, I was excited about the work and the people and the mission of the company. However, I quickly realised that I was just passing through London on my way out west, which I did four days a week for four years. It was a two-and-a-half-hour commute each way, which I filled by reading Lee Child's Jack Reacher novels, and listened to music I had upload onto my first generation iPod Shuffle (the little thin white one with a USB connector). The job itself involved long hours for projects from time-to-time, and on only two occasions, I missed the last train out of London. My super-woman wife would bundle our sleeping daughter into the car, and drive the 4-hour roundtrip in the dark of night to come collect me. Only once did I get stuck in London, on a stormy night when the power lines had been torn down by high winds and heavy rain. A friend who had an apartment on the Isle of Dogs was gracious enough to answer my plea for help.

Colleagues and friends alike often questioned why I commuted so far, but my wife and I recognised that I traded the journey for a job I really enjoyed, for keeping our family in an environment where they were involved and happy, where we had made great friends and found a great school for our daughter!

Then, I invested myself in two job roles based outside of London, totalling 9 years between 2008 and 2017. In the first role, now back in Cambridge, while there were one or two projects in London, most of my work was focused either elsewhere in the UK or internationally, where we enjoyed some phenomenal success and growth. Then, the second role involved me being on-site at a customer for 5 years, another varied experience in my career.

But, I distinctly remember the buzz I felt when I arrived at Liverpool Street station in 2017, ahead of an interview, with the same Peter Cohen above, back in the Big Smoke. There was a pulse about the city which I had missed. Yes, sometimes grubby in places, and noisy all of the time, but an attraction. Like all moths, I had to be careful of the flame.

I got into a rhythm commuting again, this time into the City. I added an early morning gym routine to the mix, leaving home on the 05h35 train, and I was hooked. Again, I was delivering engaging work in a field that I really connected with, working with some incredibly talented people, and getting experiences to deliver our expertise and value to organisations all over the world. Our London Bridge office was a place with infectious energy and a buzz that made it a great place to be.

Then, early in 2020, all of that changed. The world changed. The pandemic hit, and after a nine-week stint on the road, delivering training and commercial enablement to our offices around the world, suddenly we were all working from home, now characterised by the acronym that is causing a lot of polarised views about the modern workplace - WFH. This is not about whether companies should mandate one way or the other. This is just about my own experience. During this experience of only seeing colleagues and customers and family through a video screen, I felt part of my soul evaporate. I am a people person, after all. High-fives are common-place. In a wholesome context, hugs too! (Guy hugs - tap-tap and you're out.) I was resorting to online, indoor cycling training, sometimes involving others, one of who was the same Peter Cohen.

While the Covid pandemic affected every workplace in one way or another, with ours requiring all our staff to WFH from about the middle of March 2020, it was 411 days between my last day in the office on 14 February of that year (I was travelling a lot, remember), and my next "first day" in the same office on 31 March 2021.

I remember standing on the train platform at 07h10 that morning. I started to think about the "last time". The "last time" I did this or that, the "last time" I was in the office. Where previously I may have had to jostle with 200 other commuters from that platform at that time of the morning, it was just me and 4 others. I knew something was different. The quietness of the train journey, and arriving in London was eery. Walking from Liverpool Street, down Bishopsgate and over London Bridge was quite surreal, with hardly a soul in sight. There were police officers on London Bridge, presumably checking mask wearing, something we were all accustomed to by then.

Arriving at the office, it was only myself and Paul Brucciani FCIIS and perhaps one other that day. I remember how the office felt cold and empty, and of course it was. But the buzz was gone too. What had previously been a thrilling and exciting place to be, was now just a shell.

Two important realisations occurred for me that day:

1) It isn't the place that creates the buzz - it is the people. The same should be said of sports clubs, and churches, and community hubs, and schools for our children. The buildings are just a vehicle... community is not built by the building. It is built by the people in it. We all need community, even introverts or those who don't like hugs and high-fives.

2) Don't focus on the "last time" - focus on the "next first time". This change in mindset changed my world in an instant. I could start to get excited about what was ahead of me, rather than dwell on what was behind me.

In the words of Danny Gokey, an American musician and singer - "Yesterday's a closing door, you don't live there anymore."

We have discovered other parts of London too, like the neighbourhoods (or suburbs or boroughs, depending on your vernacular) of south-west London where our daughter lives. They are homely, exciting spaces with parks and trees, and many great ways to make new friends. You never know, maybe one day we will get to live in London too. But, for now, other adventures await us, like the ones in Singapore and south-east Asia where we currently live.

In Peter's London post, he also reflects on the WFH commentary and tribalism, and as a part-time WFH-er for big parts of my career before the pandemic and since, I understand the many upsides too.

But, for me, nothing beats being in a space with other people, exchanging views (even when they are different from each other), solving problems together, and relating with one another.

I like "in the room". I like body language cues, even if they are awkward. I know I am not the only one.

Tony's Top Tips:

Get out and experience your city - Whether it is London, or Singapore (where I am right now), or some other town or city around the world, get out and experience it. The sights, the sounds, and yes, even the smells. Discover the little corners of a special place, that create the kind of trigger memories that you can tell stories of.

Connection is worth more than connectedness - We have never been more connected, but with less connection. Find your tribe, create your community and experience relationship and connection with others. Don't just buy stuff, rather do stuff. Memories are worth more than merchandise.