Wednesday 13 April 2011

A decade in the capital

I've now been in London for 10 years. Actually that's not strictly true as I spent over half of them commuting to work from Watford but I was there often enough to get a reasonable feel of the place. Before then my knowledge of London was virtually zero. I could only remember two occasions I'd been there, and even those memories were vague - a trip to Hamleys in Oxford Street when I was young, and a school visit to the Science Museum as a teenager. So suddenly starting work there in December 2000 was a tad daunting and I chose to initially live in Watford as one of my best mates was there. It was also partly because London seemed to me like some sort of bubble; the M1 stopped and I had visions of a bouncer pondering over whether to let this skinny, floppy-haired gimp in.

Of course, after a few weeks it all became fairly routine. The Tube journey, initially exciting as it was totally new to me, became functional, and places like Leicester Square, Piccadilly Circus and The Strand didn't carry the level of mystique they had on the Monopoly board. What I did soon realise was how lonely the capital was for a single guy. The pace of life is so fast that nobody talks to you, and even though I had some friends from uni dotted around, getting to see them was tough as each of them had their own work stresses, meaning weekday meet-ups were very rare. It didn't help that email and the internet were still in their relatively early stages back then, and Broadband access was the exception rather than the rule. In fact, even my first, brick-like mobile was no more than a year old.

It all expanded rapidly, though, and in terms of escaping a degree of loneliness, I made a breakthrough in the form of internet dating. The whole Lonely Hearts phenomenon used to be taboo - maybe it still is in other areas of the UK - but in London it was the perfect opportunity to meet new people, and I suddenly found many others in almost identical situations to that of myself. For anyone in similar shoes to myself a decade ago, I'd definitely recommend it, even if it's purely for making new friends. Most of the dates I went on were simply that and were usually quite fun, particularly one with a Canadian girl who was a great laugh and obsessed with my English accent ("Hey, say 'water'", etc). There was also an Argentine who was bemused by the fact she was showing me around Fulham and not vice-versa.

The biggest eye-opener for me was how radically my perception of time and distance changed after moving here. Journeys in London are unique and people who have lived here all their lives don't know how good they've got it when it comes to public transport. You can get pretty much anywhere you want around the capital without a car, and the frequency of buses and Tubes is generally so high that people - myself included - tut when they see on the dot matrix that their next bus or Tube is more than five minutes away.

There are also nightbuses, the bonus of which means you can stay out late and not have to clockwatch like you would if you lived outside of London and needed to catch the last train or bus. The journey home may be a bit lengthy, and there’s always a chance the bus will be populated by piss-heads of the worst variety, but there’s certainly less chance of being stranded. You don't get such luxury in many places and it was shocking to hear on the news recently that there are potential transport cuts on the way in some rural areas of the country.

The time and distance thing really is a strange phenomenon. Every Thursday I play five-a-side with a group of mates in Tower Hamlets, south-east London. Travelling from my place in north-west London means a round trip of over two hours from doorstep to doorstep for a session that often lasts less than an hour depending on what time everyone arrives. If you'd told me I'd be doing this before I moved to London I'd have said you were bonkers but somehow it all seems strangely routine here.

The Tube journey is a psychological time-cruncher anyway, with it being punctuated by the relative close proximity of the stations on each line. Add in an iPod on Shuffle and it seemingly passes by even quicker as stations come and go, which probably explains why a commute of an hour is pretty comfortable for most workers if the journey isn’t too complicated.

In early 2007 my other half and I moved to Cricklewood and still live there today. Funnily enough, it’s barely a mile from the M1 exit so going by my analogy of the bouncer earlier it would probably be the equivalent of London’s cloakroom. Not knowing the area at all meant it was always a gamble moving there, particularly as we chose to rent a studio flat on Cricklewood Broadway, the area’s defining main road packed with multi-ethnic shops, market stalls, supermarkets, cafes, restaurants, banks, pubs and hotels.

Despite such richness, it was a bit daunting to begin with – living in the heart of such a busy area made me worried about crime and violence. There’s even a road called Shoot-Up Hill further up. But the gamble paid off and I’ve yet to witness any real trouble, which is a pleasant surprise considering how many different nationalities make up the population – always scope for tension. Off the top of my head I’ve met people from Egypt, Morocco, Algeria, Somalia, Hungary, Romania, Estonia, Turkey, Poland and Croatia here. But ultimately people keep themselves to themselves, making multiculturalism either a glowing success or a spectacular failure depending on which angle you take.

London, despite its vibrant atmosphere and attractions, is of course an urban nightmare and undoubtedly a culture shock for people used to a slower pace of life in smaller towns. Apart from the likes of Hyde Park and Regent’s Park, greenery and fresh air are pretty much non-existant, to the point where you see joggers running alongside main roads packed with fume-ridden buses and taxis. Surely that’s doing them more harm than good.

Playing fields are few and far between and as a result sports complexes have to be built in some of the most bizarre areas. A London Bridge venue was built underneath a tunnel, and the one I go to now in Tower Hamlets was built on top of a car park. Taking a lift up to the pitches as drivers insert coins for tickets is a surreal experience. Luckily, secure netting around every pitch means the ball is never in danger of falling off the complex and knocking someone out below.

That’s not to say I find the whole place ugly, mind you. Covent Garden on a summer’s day is a brilliant place for chilling out with friends, and during the night the South Bank overlooking the River Thames and Hungerford Bridge is a photographer’s dream, as well as a romantic haven for couples young and old.

Ultimately, though, London is ridiculously expensive. We pay over £900 a month renting a one-bedroom flat. In my parental home of Northampton you could get a four-bedroom house for that, and Northampton isn’t even that far up, er, north. Basically, for me the city is all about the present and making the best use of its strengths before its drawbacks kick in. As new commitments arrive, the end of the love affair draws nearer. Do I see my future here? Very unlikely. Am I glad to have experienced London life? Absolutely.

Additional photos by Karen Bryan, Olivia Harris and David Howard