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London

Last year, as an unprecedented amount of people moved out of London, I moved in.

It was late June and the UK had just endured its first national Coronavirus lockdown. Most people had spent the past 3 months either working from home or on furlough.

Many Londoners realised that since they no longer needed to be in the capital for work, they could realise their dreams of moving out into the surrounding countryside.

On the other hand, I decided that after spending 3 months (and the first 20 years of my life) on the idyllic East Devon coast line, I was ready for the big smoke.

Most people from Devon can’t understand why I moved from the quiet rolling hills to an always-moving, concrete jungle.

I can understand it. It’s the people, the pace. When I’m in London, I feel like I can do it. Do whatever I want.

I love the busy streets and tall buildings and the history. I love the smells and sounds. I love the rain.

For some, London is a push. For me, its a pull.

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