The Last Week in London

AUGUST - OCTOBER 2023

The Hand & Shears Pub, Smithfield. Some great memories made working behind it’s traditional bar

My last week in London started with a message to my Teddington Rugby Group chat, where I would drop the bittersweet news that I wouldn't be around at the beautiful Bushy Park. This dear enriching park sits in the suburb of Richmond in South-west London. It was a place where I had many happy memories and, ultimately, my home of rugby in London. It was sad, but having gotten some stick from my teammates after my announcement, I knew it was their way of wishing me well. I also knew goodbye wouldn't mean goodbye for good.

I had also spent much of this week in organised chaos, ironing, scrambling around the visa centre and winding down my time at the Hand and Shears. This idyllic pub is tucked off a busy road in one of the oldest streets of London. Customers had been aware that this new opportunity was coming. Still, I must have forgotten that the dynamic of working behind a bar in London and Londoners being as rude as they stereotypically are was confusing because most drinkers in the pub seemed excited about my new beginning and wanted to hear more about this new path, not turn a blind eye to it.

I have always admired the' stoic in the face of adversity' attitude of Londoners. Especially in a pub, it's the microcosm of a demographic for the line of work they are in, from journalists to lawyers to architects and interior designers. Their days revolved around work and counting down the clock until 5 p.m., when the drink would be flowing, and Marlboro gold would be lit up with each pint.

I've never really been one for goodbyes, not because I was afraid, but because I know there will always be tomorrow. Tomorrow is the start of an adventurous new venture.

I am aware that the opportunity to come to Beijing probably doesn't happen all the time. Before graduating, I was conscious that I didn't want to stop; my life had been hitting the ground running for the past four years in London. In hindsight, writing this in Beijing, I probably needed to get out of the rat race and open my world to another world.

Having lifted the ground, with a lot left behind, I am feeling excited and nervous but determined to enhance my career and understand our world. It was a conscious choice that I had thought very long and hard about; I had just finished university with a degree in photojournalism and didn't care what I did, just as long as I was moving forward.

It has been lingering on my mind to put my fingers to the keyboard for days—not that it matters—but the 8-hour time difference has meant that my body clock is adjusting, and all the days have blended into one. It's probably why, as you're reading this, it feels so non-linear. 

After finishing an internship this summer at the Financial Times, I am confident in my storytelling ability but nervous about how and when I can document this new adventure in the socialist country of China.

Having boarded my British Airways flight was very fitting and a stark reminder that the West differs very much from the East. For now, I will be an outsider looking in. My last interaction before landing would be the two British expats sat either side of me. I was soon to become one, too.

Upon arrival, I was greeted by a Chinese man named Tom, who was holding my name and flight number on a circled piece of paper—a further omen that my British affiliation would be left behind. 

I've travelled a fair bit in my life, but I knew that this would be the hardest and biggest culture shock I have experienced to date. At the time of writing, it is.

After being in the country for less than an hour, I had already been interrogated at customs, had my fingerprints taken, and knew from the moment I touched down that I was going to be watched.

I got to Beijing at the back of a typhoon, and the city had an eerily damp smell that was synonymous with the rainy streets of London on a warm summer night.

The roaring thunder shook the city's skyline as far as the eye could see—not that far since Beijing is one of the heaviest polluted cities in the world. The atmosphere of the weather around me allowed me to see light in the darkness, something I've always tried to seek. But it was also another reminder that Mother Nature will always win.

They say that speaking a second language also means having a second soul, but my one and only soul feels that it is being sold to a city that could be forbidden but full of flavour for new beginnings. Usually, I watch, observe and bear witness to the world around me, feeling like I have a sense of autonomy and control, even more so with a camera in hand.

I am here to teach English in an international school, play rugby for the Beijing Ducks and intend to be ready at any moment to take pictures for the Financial Times should any stories break out.

This is all very ambitious, but the fact I am aware of my ambitions also allows me to manifest things in my life when I may not be getting to where I want to be.

*Disclaimer: Due to VPN access, I did not post anything at the time of writing.*