Farewell, London.

Young and naive, I was just 22 when I first laid eyes on London. Dusty and dirty after two months exploring India I landed at Heathrow, a place somewhat more refined than the crazy, colourful and loud streets of India. With well-worn Birkenstocks on my feet and an overloaded backpack on my back I navigated the tube and, while feeling rather out of place, made my way down the tree-lined streets of Chelsea to a hostel, which I would call home for almost a month.

Jobless and homeless I began building my life in a city that felt immense and at times isolating. First I found a job, then a place to live and finally started figuring out how make friends in a country where I didn’t know a soul.

Slowly I grew to know my way around the streets that had once confused me. I mastered the art of cramming myself into a packed tube and realised most Londoners weren’t as terrible as everyone makes out.

I discovered my love of coffee shop hunting, and began to explore different neighbourhoods around the city while checking off a never-ending list of cafes. I wandered endless weekend markets and took a million photos; mostly of charming London doorways, coffee cups and flower shops. I spent warm days cycling through Hyde Park and rainy days hiding in world famous museums. I braved the tourist filled streets around Oxford Circus more times than I would have liked and discovered local owned boutique shops down quiet side-streets.

Along the way I met a bunch of truly beautiful people, who helped make that city that had once felt so immense and isolating a little less immense and far less isolating.

I’m 25 now, my time in London allowed me to grow and taught me so much about myself and what I want out of life. Before London I had never lived out of my parents home, had never travel beyond my own country and had no idea how this whole adult-ing thing worked. While I still haven’t completely figured out life as an adult, I am a heck of a lot closer than when I first stepped off that plane.

I managed to survive on my own and have seen more of the world in that time than I imagined possible.

So why would I choose to say goodbye to a city I love so much? Six months ago leaving London wasn’t even a thought in my mind. But over the last few months something changed, I began to hear that familiar voice telling me it was time for a change (the good kind of internal voice, not the crazy kind). Being that I’m an atrocious decision maker this lead to a whole lot of turmoil for me, but eventually I decided to trust my intuition. Two weeks ago I packed up the life I had built in London and stepped out into the unknown once more to start again. This time I’ve chosen to call Edinburgh home, a city that is slightly less hectic and a place I’ve grown to love through numerous visits over the years.

London, thank you for being so completely wonderful. You were everything I imagined and much more. This isn’t goodbye, just a see you later!

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Have you ever said farewell to a city you loved?