One Day. Living In London: The 18-Month Itch
In many ways, moving to a new country is like dating someone new. First there’s the getting to know them stage; you’re a bit uncertain and insecure as you tentatively seek out information, armed with a generous dose of superficial judgement. Stage two equals the exhilaration phase. You’ve decided you like it so you’re swept up in the moment, thrilled at the prospect of something so new and exciting. You’re blind to faults, you go with the flow… It’s going to take 2 weeks to open a UK bank account? No problem! I don’t mind draining my savings while I wait, it’s obviously a very thorough process… The supermarket is only open for 6 hours on a Sunday? That’s fine – work life balance right? I’ll make sure I’ve got no plans between 12-6pm to grab those groceries… The Piccadilly line has severe delays [again]? That’s ok, I’m fine with a 2-hour commute, think how much of my book I can read… Rose coloured glasses, anyone? But once those come off, around about the year-and-a-half mark, say hello...