London has always been a second home for me, a place and a culture that influenced me at an impressionable age, and I’ve always felt oddly at home there.
And so I walked out of the train station, fresh off the plane from Iceland and just landing in central London, ready to collapse and rest, but also eager to explore. I walked down to the tube, but as I about to purchase a ticket to wisk me away to my hotel, I stopped. Wait, why not walk?
And so I walked out of the tube and into the night air, into the dark and the lights, into a city walking home after work, on their way out to drinks and dinner, running errands, closing stores, rushing home, heading out, right as I was heading in. 1