It's always strange living in a new place. 

The familiar palm trees and suburban homes replaced by rows of Georgian buildings and trendy designer shops. 

People marching to their destinations: work and friends and pubs and places they have established as home while you disorientedly make your way through strange streets back to the flat that will be yours for the next 4 months. 

Every street looks the same. The only thing keeping you sane is the pocket pop-out map your best friend convinced you to buy. How could a quick trip to the grocery store turn into a two hour journey trying to get back to familiarity?

Cigarette smoke and double decker exhaust as thick as the London Fog makes you lightheaded; it will be a month before your nose gets acclimated and stops leaking black smudge. 

Is that the same Starbucks I passed before?

The pavement radiates with the heat of an Indian summer that has Londoners excited and tourists confused. 

You duck into an alley to check your map. You don't want to look like just another tourist. This is your city now too. 

That street looks promising.

You keep going. You can't help but think that despite the frustration and fear there is something special about getting lost among these cobbled streets. 

You love the overwhelming clash between the stone and glass, the new and the old. The people walk through the streets like blood pumping through your veins and the cacophonous city sounds ring through your ears like music. 

It makes the fear worth it. 

Finally, that wonderful red circle, a beacon of hope.

UNDERGROUND

"You can get back easily as long as you find The Tube," they said.

Next stop: Tottenham Court

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