Back in the City

It has been an interesting couple of days getting my head around spending more time back in London - not just working out how I am going to run and manage the business in France but also getting used to life back in the capital again.

For the past year I have rarely spent more than a few days at a time here and so didn't really need to get that involved - the purpose of each of those trips was to see Debrah and help her with any everyday issues and admin as necessary.

But now that I know I am going to be here more often I have been looking at things differently - what do I like about London, what am I going to have to tolerate and what will just piss me off? Inevitably it is a mix of all three.

Yesterday, I had arranged to meet an old work colleague for lunch and a very good friend for a drink in the evening.

The first thing that struck me was how much I hated the train and tube journey into the West End. I have done it daily for 25 years and just accepted it as part of life - I tolerated it and was immune to it - it was a necessity. Now that I am used to just walking somewhere or jumping in the car and being there in five or ten minutes without any delays, I found that even standing on the platform waiting for the train a great irritation and the journey itself extremely dull - it all felt like wasted time.

Carl was ten minutes late, which is nothing, but had to leave 35 minutes later because of a 2.00pm meeting. That wasn't lunch. That was barely a catch-up and certainly not worth travelling into Central London for on it's own. I can tell I am going to miss the civilised two hours that everyone takes in France - two hours that actually gives you time to eat and relax and talk if you are meeting someone.

But then the day got better. I miss the big sprawling bookshops like Waterstones and Borders, so it was great to be able to spend an hour browsing - there are bookshops in France of course but all the books are in French - there is also Amazon, who are great, but it's just not the same as the tactile browsing of shelves.

Whilst heading south from Oxford Street, I dropped into Bentley's restaurant, ostensibly to make a reservation for Debrah and me for Saturday lunchtime, but after my non-lunch, the bar looked too inviting and I was a bit hungry. Ten minutes later I was discussing the relative merits of Maldon Rock v Bouzigues oysters and Muscadet v Picpoul de Pinet, sat in the comfortable surroundings of a top London bar, just me and the barman - I felt like a character in an old Hollywood movie. You don't get that level of sophistication outside of big cities and certainly not in Carcassonne and I couldn't have had that conversation either because the French dismiss anything non-French or even non-regional French as complete rubbish. I am very much looking forward to going back tomorrow with Debrah.

Debrah has been working with the National Gallery as a client for a while now and as a result of a corporate membership she has access to tickets for events - so it was that I was able to visit the fantastic Picasso exhibition in the Sainsbury Wing. It was wonderful. I then took a stroll through the rest of the gallery and marvelled at the fantastic collection of masterpieces, each instantly recognisable, that adorn the walls - all free and on the doorstep and taken for granted and ignored by most Londoners - I certainly did for all those years.

As I emerged onto Trafalgar Square, with Nelson's Column soaring up in front of me and Big Ben beyond at the end of Whitehall, I thought about what a fabulous city London is and how much it has to offer. I think my time away helps me to appreciate it so much more. I just need to work out how to make the most of the good and ignore the bad.