I lived in the middle of London for five years. Proper middle, Zone1, London Bridge, Borough. No messing. Fuck your Clapham or Brixton and all that.

During that time, although my head-office was but ten minutes stroll away I worked daily with my clients at their offices.

Over those years that meant three different commutes. A five hour round trip to Surrey on tube/national rail, a three hour on the train to West London and a slightly shorter one, also to West London.

After that I moved my ass to the green green county of Hertfordshire and I drove to my clients every day. This took an hour ish and allowed me to drink a cup of tea, not worry about the weather and develop an unhealthy addiction to the Today Programme and PM.

Anyhow, I’m now actually working in Central London, full time and my commute is down to a blissful 50 minutes (and I still get the Today programme on my stroll to the station in the morning).

All a bit backwards isn’t it. I live the furthest away from work I’ve ever been (30+ miles) but it’s the quickest it’s ever taken me to get there. Finally I’m working in what I still feel is “my manor” when I moved out of here two years ago.

I like going into London every day, it feels great, but even more than that I like getting the fuck out of there and going back home! I haven’t felt a work-life balance like this since I lived on a Narrowboat on the Grand Union.

Text me if you’re around SE1 for a drink ❤️

These 274 words were written on Wed May 7, 2014
fletch travel