Coming Home to London

After the quiet and calm of our little hill in Gumusluk, it’s been quite a jolt to find ourselves in the middle of the hustle and bustle of London again.

Victoria Train Station

Our arrival into Victoria Train Station via the Gatwick Express

The capital is my old stomping ground, and I always get a sense of “coming home” each time I throw myself head-long into the mix and mangle of London.

Lisgar Terrace London

1st flat I ever owner was on this street

I often wonder who’s living in the first ground floor flat I ever owned in West Kensington (and what the list price is now!)

Our little Victorian terrace was nestled between Earls Court and Olympia in western London, and it was only a short walk to Kensington High Street for entertainment and shopping (and Diana and Charles in Kensington Palace). And a short bus ride to my PR job at the central English Tourist Board office in Hammersmith.

That was all a few decades ago now, and all that lingers are warm distant memories of a different life, at a different time. And .. a different me.

Each city I’ve visited and lived in over the years has brought a new facet of who I am, to the surface. They each exposed me to new experiences and people that altered the direction of where I was heading.

London, New York, Los Angeles. That’s quite a trio of cities to call home.

I was lucky to have tried each one of them on for size, and at the time they were a perfect fit for where I was in my life and what I needed out of it. A true voyage of discovery happened in each location.

So, my holy trinity, “Thanks for the memories. No regrets.” You shaped me, but the rough edges of who I evolved into has been smoothed out by my strong rural roots.

Throw Back Thursday #TBT Jay as a child sitting on a bale of hay.

Me with my grandma at her farm, sitting on a bale of hay

Now that I’ve found a new home on my quiet Turkish hillside, I feel I’ve come full-circle.

But this isn’t the end .. it’s a new beginning,