I am leaving for my annual PhD exam in a few days, I will go back to my ‘home’.
London is a kind of ‘home’ to me. It has been kind and cruel, it has taught me a lot. I will count again the rats running in the Piccadilly line tracks, waiting for a train that will come packed with people. I will go to my University which is immersed in a beautiful and almost romantic landscape. I will go to my two favourite libraries (Senate House and Laban) to check out books and journals. I will walk around, tasting the rain and smelling the air. I will eat my dear soups, I love English soups, 'leek and potato', 'carrot and coriander' are only two of the flavours you can have. I will meet a couple of friends. The London I love is probably just an imaginary homeland (term borrowed from Salman Rushdie), a place that only exists in my mind. Well, that’s ok, I can deal with that. Sometimes imaginary places are necessary to keep you going.