Bumpkin Basement Boozing

I feel as though I mention it every time I write but, as a northern, Welsh, country bumpkin the convenience of city life continues to astound, amaze and stress me out on a daily basis. It goes back to a casually-relevant conversation (as most ideas do) about living in your own bubble.
I bring this up because my parents visited over the weekend, a time during which I remembered what it felt like to eat a three course meal (that I didn’t pay for), getting inebriated in a basement bar in Soho – or, at least, I think it’s Soho; shout-out to the Heron on Dean Street, either way – and walking around a museum that didn’t have free admission. One of the questions they asked me is if I miss home?
Well, spoiler-warning, the answer is ‘yes.’ Maybe its the Welsh lad in me but there’s something more comforting about having to stumble 20 minutes down a country road in the dark from your local (and comfortably-cheap) pub than paying £6 for one pint of cider and then walking down empty streets at night. But that’s just a small gripe, and something I can admittedly do without – the thing that really drives me to say ‘yes’ is the over-arching desolation of urban loneliness (which I won’t dig into tonight, its and entirely different bag of cats).  That isn’t to say I don’t mind living alone – in a lot of ways its amazing – but outside of these small bubbles I really have no idea where I stand. Its a familiarity thing, I think, where you know the place you’ve grown up your entire life instinctively like the back of your hand. After two months I the only places I really know around me are my halls, the Tesco underneath it and the fried chicken place down the road – yet here I am, navigating around on an underground train and covering miles of distance in one day on a small whim that equates to “oh, I fancy going to get sushi.”
I think what I’m trying to say is that, yes, I do miss my home – my social life, my community, my usual drinking places – there’s nothing that quite beats the unlimited convenience of knowing that there’s a bar in a basement in Soho, how to get there and then get back in a jiffy.

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