things I wish I would have known before moving to London
or: how to survive this hell we call life/this paradise we exist in
My baby sister is moving to London soon. It’s weird, and fun, and weird to say that - it only feels like two mins since I squished a suitcase in my parent’s car, moved in with a stranger in a now-ill-advised new build and ate pizza through tears every night for three months. I’m not joking about the crying, but also I kind of am because now my life is truly beautiful and I truly love this lil city we call home. I romanticise about New York all the time, gimme a minute for London u know?!
This is a list for her, and for me, and for every lil soul moving cities, and for you, and for anyone of things I wish I’d known back then (and still sometimes wish I know now).
The best pizza you can get is from Franco Manca. We can pretend it’s not, because Franco Manca is a chain and it’s not cutting edge and it’s not authentic and it’s also kind of wanky and annoying that it’s sourdough etc etc., except the best pizza that you can get is from Franco Manca. It’s about £7 for a margherita, their chilli oil is free at each table, there is one within five minutes of literally every tube stop, you can always get a table because they always pack it to the rafters, the toilets are always on the same level as the restaurant (I deeply resent upstairs/downstairs toilets) and the pizza is always fucking hot and always fucking delicious. Try all the pizza, obviously, but Franco Manca is the best.
Incidentally, on this note, pizza will always make you feel better. Even a cup of tea, sometimes, can’t cut it - if the shared worktops are dirty or if u have run out of milk and cba to go to the shop, or if the kettle has weird flaky bits in it when you pour (what the actual fuck are those?). But pizza? Pizza will always be there for u. It is warm and comforting and safe and jolly and a slice of it, from anywhere, anytime, will always make you feel good. It’s worth knowing.
The beigel shops in Brick Lane are open 24 hours. TWENTY FOUR HOUR BEIGELS. Also the best one is the white one, obviously, but u kind of need to figure that one out solo.
Bar Italia in Soho is also open 24 hours. It is the best coffee, and if u don’t like coffee I’m sure the tea is dire, but it’s beautiful anyway.
The tube signs at King’s Cross lie and send you the long way (to avoid congestion) and it’s much quicker to get to your tube if you don’t follow them. Unfortunately I have lived here over 5 years and I still don’t know the correct quickest route to my tube, so good luck.
Obviously, The Hawley Arms is the best pub in North London.
Sainsburys do bottles of £5 Beaujolais. This will become important to you, trust me.
If you go on a Tinder or Hinge or Bumble date, text your flatmate or me or your best friend your location, their name, their address whatever. It sucks that we gotta do this (fuck the patriarchy IDST) but it’s useful and reassuring and it’s just one text, ya know.
Don’t let any boy kiss you when he’s made you cry. Wait until your eyes have dried completely.
Don’t have sex with someone because you want to be held after. They probably won’t anyway and then you will feel worse. Similarly, having sex with one person doesn’t make you forget about the other. I wish it did, too. Call your friends instead, watch a stupid movie and act it out like you’re in that sleepover scene in Grease, go to a show, watch Friends, eat a pizza. Don’t hurt yourself to try and save yourself, you know. There is a crack in everything - that’s how the light gets in. (DO NOT sleep with any boy who quotes Leonard Cohen. Or Neil Young. Or Kurt Cobain. Only girls are allowed to do that. I don’t make the rules)
On a similar topic: if they won’t hold your hand or look at your eyes then get up and go home. You’ll regret not doing afterwards if you don’t.
Podcasts and audiobooks are your best friends. Get the audible free trial, then pay £8/month for it if u can, and listen to SO MUCH GOOD STUFF. Ask everyone you know for podcast recommendations.
Go to shit fringe theatre and spoken word and comedy events. They’re cheap as fuck, often awful, and give you memories forever. Also, if you happen upon fucking Fleabag or something of that ilk, you get to be the “I was there” person. This is London, for God’s sake
Scented candles cover all manner of ills.
On that: mice. When I lived above a pub in Kentish Town, I once woke up with a mouse on my actual chest, in my actual bed. I know. I know. So I have what u might call experience in this department. The only thing that actually works for catching mice is the sticky traps, which are objectively fucking evil, the choice of only the Priti Patels of this earth, and so you’ll have to use something else. The audio repeller things do something, live traps sometimes work (and u get to maintain ur pescatarian status xoxo), and what rly has an effect is peppermint oil. Mix peppermint oil with water and spray it fucking everywhere, and stuff all holes in your flat with wire wool, and pray to the mice overlords, and you should be ok. Also: every fucking flat in London has mice. It sucks, but it is what it is. If you have rats: different. Get out.
Tube mice bring joy, tho.
£8 for a cocktail is cheap. £10 for a cocktail is standard. £12 for a cocktail is one-night-only. £15 for a cocktail - fuck off.
Crying at work is normal. Find a work friend, cry on their shoulder in the toilets, grow apart when you eventually leave, smile at the memory of how they comforted you when you accidentally CC’d all the suppliers in on an email that was only meant for one of them and got bollocked by your boss for it. Cry on them and then let it go. Who fucking cares at the end of the day (end of play. EOP).
Offices can be literal hell on the daily. Don’t let anyone shame u for ur lunch choices (I still have PTSD from people eating a fucking ryvita and half a tin of soup as lunch on a 10 hour office day because they’re “being good”), make friends with the post staff (they always have beers in the post room and sometimes they even have a Nintendo in there too), go out for a drink with your team, don’t let ur boss treat you like shit, don’t rely on HR to help you out, walk to and from work, don’t work late every single day - if you always stay late u will always find work to do, be nice to everyone (especially the PR team as they have access to samples heheheh shout out Gareth n Helena u know who u r), find bits of joy in every day and cling onto them, when people ask how you are and you’re feeling alright answer “good!” instead of “not bad!” because saying the word “good” instead of the word “bad” changes something in your brain and as you’ll have to answer this question about 47 times a day u will need all the positive reinforcement you can get ur hands on, take a lunch break every day, cherish a coffee in the morning, expect that someone at some point will be a dick, and expect that someone at some point will be an angel.
Oat milk ice lattes are the best coffee, soz
Rowans is the only bowling alley/karaoke bar/hot mess of a place u will ever need to know.
Hairdressers cost a fucking fortune. I don’t know what to tell you. I have not found a solution
Aldi. ALDIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Also: the big Saino’s in Camden.
Dark pubs > bright bars forever & always
Warehouse parties might be ur scene - if they are, make sure u have tissues in your bag when you go as there is never ever any toilet roll
Drugs are literally everywhere in London. Literally - they’re in the water supply even. It’s havoc. Be yourself and don’t do anything to stop yourself feeling your feelings. Feelings can’t be stopped but brain cells can die xoxo
If you like chicken wings you are in LUCK. There are chicken wings everywhere.
Do not go to any restaurant on Brick Lane that doesn’t offer you 20% off and one free drink each. If the first one you walk past offers you this deal, go straight in and don’t even bother assessing the others. Again, I don’t make the rules
All landlords are trash, and all letting agents even more so.
Letting agents will send “contractors” round with no explanation and without warning, whenever they so deign. I am currently sat in my flat, alone, somewhat scared because there are 2 random men here who had a key to let themselves in because apparently the bar downstairs has a leak and as such they want to re-grout my shower??? As no one informed me they were coming round I am in my dressing gown, with nothing on underneath, and now can’t make anything to eat, use the bathroom, tidy the flat, put clothes on, go anywhere, anything. How long does grouting take??? Have already googled - it said 24 hours which feels extreme. This is, obviously, illegal - to send someone round without 24 hours notice - but what am I gonna do? Take them to court? Unfortunately no, and they know this so they do it regardless. It’s a cycle of doom that London is especially gruesome for. Letting agents - fucking trash.
As with friendships, relationships are supposed to feel good most of the time. If either of them don’t, something isn’t right
The northern line between Euston and Camden is literally the loudest thing I have ever heard in my entire life, and if you aren’t prepared you will jump out of your skin and Londoners will look at you and be like “ah, tourist”. Someone told me the other day that it’s 95 decibels, which is like above the legal limit for noise without protection (don’t quote me on that lol), so be prepared. (obv u will need to come to Camden to go to the Hawley, duh)
Buses > tubes forever
Pigeons are fucking EVERYWHERE and they fly seemingly directly at you for no reason at all 100% of the time. Bizarrely, you will get used to them, even though it feels like you will always jump in front of oncoming traffic in an attempt to get away from their scratty face getting closer to your’s.
After a few years here, you’ll start to think “I am tired all the time. I wish there was something to perk me up. A vitamin, or a convenient tablet I could take in the morning, or something” and eventually u will go to yourself: “hey! Isn’t that what Floradix does?! Maybe I should get some Floradix?!” - now, I don’t personally know anyone who has ever tried taking Floradix (I actually - full disclosure - can’t even rly remember if that is its actual name, but here we are so for the sake of this bullet point, let’s carry on without googling), but I feel sure that it cannot work. And I don’t know the price, but I feel sure it’s too expensive. The only reason you think it might be the solution is because the Floradix adverts have battered their way into your brain. You’ve been looking at them daily for several years (!) and now they have finally infiltrated. Have a coffee, have a tequila, don’t buy the Floradix.
If u don’t want to sit next to someone on the bus or the tube or whatever (read: creepy man sees young girl and sits right next to her to intimidate her), u don’t have to. Just stand up, even say excuse me if they’re in your way, and go stand or sit elsewhere (near an exit probs). Fuck being rude - they certainly aren’t being considerate to ur feelings. (Maybe this 1 is generational but I literally wish SO MUCH someone had told me this years ago, giving my lil vulnerable self the strength I needed to not feel rude ALL THE FUCKING TIME for not being a shiny, smiling doll of a woman)
Book a restaurant for your birthday and invite all your favourite people. You won’t believe how special sharing a meal with friends can feel in a massive city.
Learn to cook one thing you rly love (pasta) and make every variation on it ever. This is actually Jamie Oliver’s advice but I’m masking it as my own because no one needs to hear me explain in detail how much I love old Jamie Oliver recipe books (again).
There is magic everywhere, and mania everywhere. Consume it all.
Buy yourself tulips or daffodils for £1 from Aldi and put them in a vase or a glass or an old diet coke bottle, and watch them bloom and smile at their relentless joy.
omg go to a Deeper Into Movies event. They’re about 700x cheaper than Secret Cinema and are so much more DIY and so much more amazing (never been to Secret Cinema even tho I obviously would love it, but can def vouch for Deeper Into Movies’ amazing events)
Groupon is so long and annoying but u actually can get amazing deals on there heheh
Never rent a place without central heating because u will be too fucking cold even to sleep and that is depressing.
At some point, unless you become v rich v quick, you will probably have to live with flatmates u don’t like. Though this is horrible, mostly it works out in the end - the place I lived where I had the worst flatmate I’ve ever had (Patronising Pablo. Don’t even ask), I also made some of the most beautiful friends I’ve made in London, who are my favourite people even years on. The bad comes with the good, etc.
Oh, a big one! It’s SO loud, like all of the time. I can’t sleep without car noises and alarms going off now, but when I first moved I was like w.t.f. !!! Download Headspace and listen to their free sleep sounds, or white noise, or ASMR, or whatever works for you. That helps before you get used to it.
My favourite (and therefore the best) place to go vintage shopping is Portobello. I know that is a bold statement as usually West London is not a phrase in my lexicon, but the stuff they have there is truly beautiful and unique and not another fucking Canadian sports jacket marked up to £85 (sorry Rokit I do actually ly xxx)
Go to galleries!!!! Even if you think you’re not arsed about art!!!!
Swiss Cottage Odeon is the best Odeon.
Finding your favourite Sunday roast pub is a necessary rite of passage. Choose wisely, and experiment lots.
Instant noodles: a cliché, but fucking fantastic
Walking on the Heath is a tonic. Regents Park has beautiful flower gardens. Primrose Hill is the best view in London - you can see the best building from there, the BT Tower. I hear Hyde Park has green parakeets flying around, I’ve not found them yet. London Fields lights up in the sun. Victoria Park is massive. There are endless beautiful cemeteries. I’ve never been a hiking kinda person but the green bits here are beautiful and necessary.
It’s only an hour’s train to Brighton, to the beach (!!)
Never stop believing in love for fear of getting hurt.
You will fuck up, you will make mistakes, and do things wrong, and get hurt by people you really should have known could hurt you but you didn’t stop to assess, you will lose things and cry and argue and feel new feelings, and people and things will change and it will feel big and hard, but you will always have your heart and yourself. Hold onto that. You will also always have me <3
The Gherkin (is that that building’s actual name?!) does not have a base - it’s like the bottom of the rainbow. I’m yet to meet anyone who’s entered it.
Watch Sex And The City!!!! You’ll be amazed how relevant it still is. And watch Broad City. And Fleabag.
There is a space and a place for everyone in London. That’s what makes it so beautiful here.
Soulmates aren’t just romantic, and you can (and will) have many of them.
Most of the time, off-licence fruit & veg is cheaper than supermarket fruit & veg.
Big cities can be the loneliest places. You can mitigate this with all the things in the above list, and with Netflix’s Schitt’s Creek, but sometimes there might still be loneliness deep down in your stomach. The thing to know is: everything passes. It will pass. Even the worst feelings pass. Eventually the good things pass too, but more come and more go, and more come and more go, and so on and so forth until the mountains crumble into the sea etc etc. It’s always in motion. Everything is temporary. We move.