A London Question

A London Question

The conversations with K really struck me. For a couple of weeks I could think of little else.

I’ve lived in London all my life bar eighteen months in Watford, regular stints in rural Oxfordshire and – arguably – brief flirtations with Derby and Nottingham. London is in my blood. It lives in my heart and London will forever be in my head. I am Londoner first, Englander second and European third. Yes; Europe above Britain.

I harbour a desire to live in Bristol. It used to be Tyneside or Durham but now it’s Bristol. No secret. I love the place. So the idea of moving to the Middle East and, specifically Saudi Arabia, is just nonsense to me.

The idea of a society living to a strict religious code seems a pretty damned odd place for me - Mr Liberal - to start looking for a life.

But K was reassuring about the environment and experience. And I know he is a veteran of the region. My own research of the country pricks interest. I mean the really unpleasant stuff that we all know about doesn’t need to be courted or sought out. Keep my head down, do my thing, engage where I need or want to but keep away from stuff that may worry me.

Is that a kop out?

Maybe?