OK, let me level with you. Moving to London? It’s mental expensive. I’m talking proper mental.
I landed at Heathrow, thinking I was prepared, as I had my research sorted, budgets done and accommodation lined up via SpareRoom. You won’t believe what a joke that turned out to be.
The landlord took me to a tiny room the size of my old wardrobe and asked for £800 a month. Plus deposit. Plus admin fees. And his nan’s birthday present money, in all likelihood. Welcome to London, mate.
Transport Will Empty Your Pockets (But It’s Worth It)
The authorities increased the Tube fare in March 2025 and that made me cry. Seriously. For comparison, a weekly travelcard for zones 1-3 now costs around £47. That’s more than I was putting out for groceries back home.
But here’s what no one tells you about London transport. Yeah, it’s expensive. Yeah, the Central Line breaks down sometimes and you’re trapped in a tunnel with someone’s armpit in your face for 20 minutes. But it connects everything.
I can hop on at Mile End, grab breakfast in Shoreditch, meet friends in Camden, catch a film in Leicester Square, and be home by midnight. Try doing that in Manchester or Birmingham. Good luck with that.
The buses are brilliant too. Route 15 was my weekend recreation. Jump on at Trafalgar Square and ride it to Tower Bridge. Much better than sightseeing tours and costs the same as a regular journey.
Finding Mates Isn’t Like University
Back home, friendships just happened. School, work, the local pub; you are going to see the same people and gradually form connections.
London’s different. Everyone’s busy. Everybody has something scheduled and somewhere they have to be. Making friends requires actual effort, which feels weird at first.
I signed up to play Sunday league football in Victoria Park.I was an absolute disaster on the pitch, but the lads were sound. After matches, we would have pints, and over time, people would ask me out to birthdays, house parties, and occasional weekend getaways.
Quiz night at The George became my Tuesday routine. Same group of regulars, same terrible questions about 1980s pop music, same arguments about whether tomatoes count as fruit or vegetables. Loved every minute of it.
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The Weather’s Properly Confusing
Londoners bang on about the weather because it’s genuinely unpredictable. Last March, I left home in shorts because the morning was gorgeous. By lunchtime, it was snowing. By teatime, blazing sunshine again.
You learn to carry everything. Umbrella, sunglasses, jumper, shorts. I looked like a walking Argos catalogue for months.
The grey winter days nearly broke me though. Darkness at 3:30pm? That’s not natural. Seasonal depression is real, and London winter tests everyone.
Work Culture Moves Fast
The pace here is bonkers compared to anywhere else I’ve lived. People walk like they’re late for their own funeral. Everyone’s got seventeen different projects on the go.
But it’s infectious. You get swept up in it. Suddenly you’re the person rushing down Oxford Street, phone pressed to your ear, talking about quarterly targets and budget revisions.
My first year in London taught me that keeping up isn’t about being the smartest person in the room. It’s about adapting quickly and not taking yourself too seriously when you mess up.
Food Scene’s Absolutely Mad (In the Best Way)
Within ten minutes of my flat, I could get proper Turkish breakfast, Vietnamese pho that would make you weep with joy, Caribbean curry that cleared your sinuses, and fish and chips that actually lived up to the hype.
Sunday roasts became my religion. Found this pub in Hackney that does Yorkshire puddings the size of dinner plates. The gravy alone was worth the £15 price tag.
Street food markets are where London really shows off. Borough Market on a Saturday morning – controlled chaos. Smells, sounds, and samples being thrust at you from every direction. Your wallet gets lighter, but your stomach gets very, very happy.
Events That Made It Feel Like Home
SXSW London in June 2025 was a game-changer. First time they’d done it outside Austin, Texas. The whole city felt electric. Music venues, tech talks, and film screenings are happening everywhere.
Standing in that crowd at Shoreditch Park, watching bands I’d never heard of but instantly loved, chatting to random strangers about everything and nothing. That’s when London stopped feeling like somewhere I was visiting and started feeling like home.
The Greenwich+Docklands International Festival later that summer showed me London’s community spirit. Free events, families out together, people from every possible background just enjoying themselves. Magic, really.
Housing Horror Stories (But You Survive)
Let’s talk about the housing situation. It’s genuinely awful. I viewed fifteen places before finding somewhere liveable. One “spacious studio” was literally a converted cupboard. Another had a shower in the kitchen. Not near the kitchen, but IN the kitchen.
Eventually found a room in a Victorian terrace in Zone 3. Tiny, expensive, but it had character. The heating was temperamental, and the shower pressure was pathetic, but it was mine.
Flatmates became like family out of necessity. We shared milk, borrowed each other’s clothes, and developed elaborate systems for whose turn it was to buy toilet roll.
What Nobody Warns You About
The loneliness hits harder than you expect. Even surrounded by 9 million people, you can feel completely isolated. Weekend evenings were the worst, as everyone else seemed to have plans while I was eating Tesco meal deals and watching Netflix alone.
The city demands resilience. Bad days feel worse when you’re far from family and your support network consists of people you’ve known for three months.
But it builds character. My first year in London forced me to become more confident, more resourceful, and more open to new experiences. You learn to back yourself because nobody else will.
Would I Do It Again?
Absolutely. Without question. In a heartbeat.
London tested everything I thought I knew about myself. It pushed me out of every comfort zone I’d carefully constructed. It cost me more money than I’d ever spent, challenged me more than any job I’d ever had, and changed me more than any other experience in my life.
My first year in London wasn’t just about surviving in an expensive city. It was about discovering what I was actually capable of when pushed to my limits.
Twelve months later, I walk these streets like I belong here. Because I do. London chose me as much as I chose it.
And that feeling? Priceless. Even if everything else costs a fortune.
