Goodbye London...

I remember when I first moved out of home. I can still picture my parents waving goodbye on the curb, as I drove away smiling, excited about the future, cranking up Bon Jovi on the stereo, headbanging away with the world at my feet. Then I promptly turned the corner and burst into tears.

Leaving London is a bit like that. Only a few months ago, we found ourselves with irresistible new job offers in Melbourne. Home! Think of the weather! The sunshine! A beach at the end of our street! The coffee! The Thai food! Brunches! Dim sims on tap! 


We were suddenly resigning, packing up the house, finding another, planning a wedding (complete with traumatic wedding dress dramas - who knew it would be the hardest part?), failing to plan a honeymoon (still on the to-do list!), trying to cram in every last bit of travel and London life we needed to squeeze out of our last 3 months.... It's been a whirlwind of excitement and a maze of cardboard boxes. 

But now the time has come to go - just as I've remembered not to say "pants" or "thongs" in the entirely wrong context. And there's a big heavy lump in my throat.

The last 5 years in London have been wonderful. When you travel to the opposite side of the world from all your friends and family, with only each other and a few boxes of clothes (none of them warm enough for December in London - the warmest thing I brought was a cotton jacket! COTTON!! Madness), you never know what's in store. But we've made new, life long friends, we got engaged (woot!), travelled high and low (every month, at least -  we have some serious trees to plant), expanded our culinary horizons (from spotted dick in Britain to oysters & pearls in New York to sea urchin at the Tsukiji fish market in Tokyo), enjoyed jobs that we have loved, explored every nook and cranny of London life, and treated each week like there's a new adventure to be had. The experience will change the way we live forever. 


Oh, and we've bought a lot of warm coats. Melbourne winters, do your best - I am ready for you.

I'll miss living on our beloved Rupert Street where we moved 5 years ago for its proximity to London's best flat white at the time, as you do (at Flat White - your only other option back in the day was Provs - how far London has come!). Rupert Street - so full of character and life, from its crack pipes in our doorway to the gigantic men in tutus across the road, from the food and coffee carts lined up along the cobblestones, to our stash of hams, cheeses, truffles and fresh pasta at the cute Italian delis up the road, from its flashing neon STRIPTEASE signs, to the rock 'n roll Spuntino diner downstairs. I'll miss the newsagent who thinks TPG's Italian L'uomo Vogue is a gay porn mag and wraps it in brown paper before he leaves the shop. 


I'll miss runs past Big Ben and Buckingham Palace through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, especially in Autumn, my favourite London season. I'll miss spotting celebrities in random places on the streets (even if it is sometimes just Jim from Neighbours). I'll miss riding at the top of the double decker buses and scoffing salt beef bagels on Brick Lane. I'll miss stocking up at the Lebanese grocers to cook the latest from Ottolenghi or shopping in Chinatown after work to knock up a quick bowl of Vietnamese fishy soup. I'll miss H&M and Anthropologie and reasonably priced champagne. I'll miss jetting off with my rolly bag after work on Friday nights for weekends in Paris or Rome. I won't miss the Tube. Or the weather. Most of all, I'll miss my friends.

Writing this blog has been a wonderful adventure in itself. I'm still so grateful that anyone reads it. It was born from an obsession for eating, cooking, rummaging through deli shelves and discovering new places to eat. TPG and I had already built a life around travelling by gut and reading endlessly about food, so why not share the joy of new discoveries - while indulging in a little creative outlet along the way? I'm not sure what form it will take going ahead - it's getting harder to keep it up and I value nothing more than spending my precious spare time with TPG and a bottle of wine, pondering life and love and the next big feast. But the magnificent Australian food scene is one I'm bursting to write about and share. So finger's crossed that I find the time, and that you still care to read. 

So tomorrow, we take off for Melbourne - but not before some travels through Venice, the wine regions of Amarone, Barolo and Bordeaux, the French gastronomic capital of Lyon,  and - of course - New York. Well, you only live once.

Thanks for tuning in. It's been a wonderful 5 years. Goodbye, London!


Gulp.