New Memories – Pt. 2

At the end of my parents latest visit we did not only have sore feet, tired legs, happy tummies and in my case, a camera roll full of pristine photographs (metaphorically speaking of course, as I always shoot digital). We also had a whole new round of fresh adventures and new memories to look back on and (dis)covered many more kilometers of the city streets, as we wore our shoe soles thin.  It would be a bit much, both to write and I’m sure to read about all of the things we did together; far too many things happened in that one week to mention in a single blog post.

Instead I have created a little list of just a few of the things that we got up to, which I am posting here along with some snapshots of what we experienced on our trips together: read more

New Memories – Pt. 1

As I mentioned in my last post my parents recently came to visit me. It always means a lot when my family and friends from home take time out of their calendars (and money out of their wallets) to come and spent time with me here. They get a holiday in a different country and we all get to spend some much needed time together. For me, it breaks up the routine from my every day life here and it gives me a chance to be in London as if I was on holiday. But having them here is also an ambivalent experience because it reminds me of all the little moments and big events I miss out on at home and all the time we could have spent together if I still lived in Denmark.

I almost always feel homesick and a bit funny after these visits, unsure if I’m making the right decision to live here; if it is too big a sacrifice. And then I remind myself that although we don’t see each other every day, like when I lived at home (something which was inevitably going to happen anyway when I got my own place), we get to have these experiences of the city together, which have become really special and important to me. read more

A Walk of One’s Own

It was Virginia Woolf who wrote about the importance of having A Room of One’s Own. The same can be said for a walking space. It’s no secret that walking in London is one of the best things I know. But it can also be one of the most tiring. Anyone who are familiar with London knows how hard it can be to find a good place for walking; a long stretch of space that allows you to walk freely, uninterrupted by traffic and indisturbed by the hordes of other people seeking a place of the city to trace their own steps.

My parents recently visited me and it was their suggestion that if the weather turned out nice we could go for a walk by Regent’s Canal and follow the canal around the park all the way down to Little Venice, in the same route that the longboats sail tourists to and from Camden Lock Market. read more

Discovering Secrets at Home

I’m home again! It’s reading week at Uni and with a surprisingly (and unfamiliar) empty academic calendar reading week has actually meant a week of reading for fun for once! I have been able to go home and have a proper study-free holiday, the kind where I have been sitting on the sofa indulging in uninterrupted hours of reading and tea drinking, and been able to spend time with my family and friends guilt free, as I don’t have other things I really should be doing instead. But my visit at home haven’t just consisted of staying inside, cuddling up next to the cat on the sofa where its nice and warm, I have also been out and about almost every day.

Yesterday my mum and I had planned a trip to Copenhagen for some much needed mother-daughter quality time. It feels strange to think about this but I am much more familiar with the different areas and streets of London than I have ever been with Copenhagen. I have always lived in a suburb far from the city center and Copenhagen has always been a place I went to on daytrips, for shopping, cinema trips and birthday celebrations. Or a place I commuted to for work or lessons when I was taking my Spanish A-levels. read more


Footsteps on cracked pavements, echoing between Georgian terrace houses on half empty streets. Under a harsh burning sun in a heatwave in October, when the leaves are falling yellow, orange rust and cinnober red from the London Plane trees onto the broken tiles. Or beneath the orange-yellow glow of a black streetlamp in misty rain at night, shining down on the black tarmac, making it shine.

The surprise of turning a corner and suddenly looking down a quiet row of 2-storey mews decorated with wild plants and doors in orange and forest green. Of turning yet another corner and discovering an unknown square for the very first time, like a secret that belongs just to you. Or the pleasure of a moment where you find yourself lost, that split second of uncertainty, and then the decided resolution that it does not matter. The happiness there is in that. read more