When I left London in 2016 after living there for 10 years I barely looked back, visiting only once or twice in a few years to collect stray belongings that were gathering dust under the beds of family and friends. I was busy learning French and getting to grips with life in Paris, then there was a wedding, a dog, miscarriages, an adoption, two babies and a renovation during a pandemic. It was only in 2023 that I started to pop back semi-regularly for quick trips, which never afford enough time but are refreshing all the same. While I don’t think I’ll ever move back the longer I’m away the fonder I feel about the city.

Here’s a random selection of things I miss.

The sheer scale of it. London goes on forever, in every direction. I had friends who lived in the Eastern suburbs and it often took me longer to visit them than it would to fly to Scotland. Being a tiny speck of that huge ecosystem is so inspiring and when I visit from Paris (which by comparison is so small you can easily walk from one end to the other in about three hours if you stay in the “official” 75 postcodes) I feel like a little country mouse.

Red buses. The joy at securing the front seats on the top of a double decker bus is unparalleled.

The dry sense of humour. Which eventually became my sense of humour and no-one in France appreciates it.