I’m having a great day so far, which isn’t something I thought I’d be able to say at any point before tomorrow, seeing as I had to leave the house this morning to go to the dentist. I was overdue a deep clean and, as ever, the hygienist promised to be gentle, then attacked my gums with the enthusiasm of a high-school serial killer who finally got to the cheerleader.
I came out of her office feeling fragile and vaguely offended, and felt strongly that I should treat myself. I hopped on the tube and went into town, and am now writing to you from a terrace in Bloomsbury. Around half an hour ago, I devoured a heaped plate of chicken tagine, jewelled rice and marinated aubergines. What I had to pay for this lunch is something I would only ever discuss with my priest or my lawyer but, sometimes, you do just need to have a good time.
As things stand, I’m sitting in the shade, drinking a large iced coffee, watching and listening to life around me, and writing this column. Soon, I’ll walk the 20 minutes down to Leicester Square to the cinema, as I got myself a ticket to the new Superman movie. After that, I’ll head to the outdoor pool I go to quite often, for a spirited swim followed by a tanning session on the roof, surrounded by the usual mix of stylish queer men and retired people who moved to central London back when one could still do that.
Eventually I’ll get bored of the book I’m reading and hop back on the tube, and go home to have dinner. Again: a great day, and one of those afternoons which makes me feel absurdly thankful that, as a teenager, I decided to choose London as my home. Busy capital cities aren’t for everyone but they really are for me, and London is one of the best ones out there, if not the best altogether.
Well, that’s my opinion anyway. Your mileage may vary, especially if you happen to find yourself on the political right. Most recently, Isabel Oakeshott wrote a column in the Telegraph which the paper headlined “Britain is trapped in a dizzying decline and London is its epicentre”. In it, she explains that she has moved back to the Cotswolds from Dubai – oh la la! – but “the rampant crime and aggressive promotion of foreign cultures and causes is impossible to ignore [in the capital]”.
A few weeks earlier, alleged academic Matt Goodwin wrote in the Daily Mail that “London is OVER”. It has, apparently, “morphed into a city that is unrecognisable from years ago and is now in manifest and rapid decline, with deteriorating standards and no real sense of identity or belonging”. The culprits are “accelerated demographic change, mass immigration and economic stagnation”. Naturally.
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Didn’t Matthew Goodwin have a terrible time the day he went to London?
Though these are only two examples, picked essentially at random, bashing the capital and making it sound like it has descended into Mad Max territory has become a popular and lucrative hobby for a number of right wing figures.
It probably should go without saying but, for the sake of stating the obvious: none of what they’re saying is true. I’ve been living here for nearly 16 years, something that neither of them can say, and I’m happy to take a stand and contradict them.
At most, I would argue that yes, there are neighbourhoods where lack of investment and council cash have led to quite obvious issues, especially when it comes to the public realm. This isn’t a London-specific issue, however, and immigrants are hardly to blame. They – we – aren’t the ones who made austerity happen. Elsewhere, it’s hard to read those pieces and try to find even a morsel of truth in them.
London hasn’t become a crime-ridden hellhole; I still feel safe walking around at any time of day or night, anywhere in the city. The underground system remains world-beating. The city is as diverse as I’ve ever known it, and that’s still a delight. It’s possible to eat or buy food from just about anywhere in the world; overhear just about any language; walk around and find yourself in a neighbourhood dominated by just about any nationality.
It may not be as outwardly friendly as a village or a small town, where life is less rushed and people know each other better, but that doesn’t mean it’s cold. I know many of my neighbours and the people who run my local businesses; all I had to do was choose to befriend them. It wasn’t hard. In short: the place these columns describe just doesn’t exist, and that baffles me.
Then again, maybe that’s the point. I’m not their intended audience, as I get to see London every day. Instead, they’re trying to frighten those who live elsewhere. I may not be able to reach a lot of those here, and doubt that many of our readers would fall for these daft lies but, just to be clear: London hasn’t fallen. We’re still here, having a good time, and do come visit us when you can. You may have to remortgage your house to pay for lunch but hey, we never said we were perfect…
