It's funny; up until now, I've not really felt homesick for London. I guess that the excitement of being in Moscow and the attendant stresses and strains have distracted me from the fact that really, this city is my home. This city is my manor.
Since we got back from France on Friday, it seems as if London's been putting on her best face for me. Suddenly she's put on her lippie, thrust back her shoulders, and been strutting her stuff for my delectation. And it's not just that I've had the opportunity to spend some quality walking through Hyde Park this afternoon in the sunshine - although lord knows, I'm not sure that there are many capital cities with such an amazingly beautiful park in the centre of them. No, it's more that I've been reminded of what it is that I really love about this place and which is so noticeably absent from the streets of Moscow.
Diversity.
And you know what? It's not even celebrated diversity, because that would imply that it's noticed. No, London is full of diversity - and no one gives a shit because that's just the way it is, and has been for a long time. Funnily enough, that's what a number of my Russian acquaintances have said they like about my home town; the fact that they can walk along the street speaking Russian as loudly as they like, and no one cares. In Moscow, if you single yourself out in any way, it's noticed; not necessarily in a bad way, but you're still aware that you're 'other'.
But here? You speak French, Swahili, Russian, Chinese, Arabic, Spanish, Lithuanian or Finnish? Well, so what?
God, I love that.
Which is why the fact that we can't fly back to Moscow as planned on Wednesday - due to the thick brown tar that is currently masquerading as air - is somehow not bothering me so much...
