Oh my, how time flies

Last week marked three years of my living in Clapham - London, England.

After thirty six months I can now walk into the office in the morning and say 'Alright Mike' without feeling like a complete fool.

I know off the top of my head that probably the best way, of the many, to get from Blackfriars to Battersea is to walk to Temple, take the District line to Victoria, and then take the Victoria Line, southbound, to Vauxhall. Walk to the bus station and get the 344 which will drop you right on Battersea High Street.

On a really cold Saturday afternoon I just crave a good cup of tea. And after a long day at work, it's very nice to walk across the bridge and go to the slightly rundown local for a pint (or two) of London Pride.

There are rituals and traditions now. Pub quiz on a Sunday; Pancake Day; craft nights; carrying the Christmas tree home on one shoulder at the start of Advent; our fabulous catered parties...

The longer I stay here, the faster the years go by. Slowly what was once new and novel grows to be everyday, but not necessarily in a bad way; and it becomes more and more difficult to remember life without Clapham - London, England.