London early hours

Yesterday brought me back to nearly 10 years ago when I used to travel everyday to central London to work.

It was Tuesday morning 8.30am, shop not open yet, where the city is waking up and welcomes the glamorous and well dressed, the perfect hair that took ages to tame into place this morning, the click clonk of pointy heals, and the scent of freshly applied makeup and perfume they leave behind.

A quick look at the windows shops where they will probably come back to to kill a lunch time hour to take a closer look at the beautiful handbags they’re walking past. Maybe try on a bit of the latest fashion and leave behind the best part of their monthly wage.

For a minute I missed this badly. The morning commute holding a paper and a hot coffee, staring at the window, the sun shining at the London skyline as if saying welcome.

I am not sure I would do it again though, not now with young children anyway, but it felt good and envigoring.

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The reason we were there mixing with a crowd that’s not used to a family sharing the pavement with them so early on a week day was because we were heading to the US Embassy for our visa interview. In itself it was quite an experience and a lengthy one…
But four hours of bureaucracy, armed with UNO game, books and colouring pens we left feeling empty but relieved and happy to be granted the outcome we were hoping for.

So the first things was to celebrate while trying to realise the enormity of what had just happened and how it was now official that our life was set to change.

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Finally we are able to put a date in the diary, book flights, a removal company, find a house… and approach a whole new world the other side of an ocean.