It occurred to me recently that, even after almost seventeen years living in the metropolis, I still view London largely through the eyes of a newcomer. I managed to go out today after a couple of days stuck at home due to the weather. It was just one of my regular trundles around Canary Wharf and the Olympic Park. The thing is, whenever I head to such places, I am invariably stuck with awe. Both areas are sites of sleek, modern shopping centres which I can cruise around in my powerchair with ease. They are connected by a state of the art public transport system which I still derive great pleasure from using. The truth is, there is still something about this place, it’s infrastructure, architecture and history, which I still find incredible.

I find myself wondering why. I have now been living in the borough of Greenwich for nearly seventeen years: ten in Charlton, seven in Eltham. The city around me still somehow seems new and exciting to me. Had I been born here though, would I feel the same? If I had lived in London all my life, would it still be so captivating? Is it simply because I came from somewhere where such things did not exist the reason why I find a metropolis where they do so incredible? Am I still so enamoured simply because I once did not live here? Heading out on my daily trundles, in a strange way I almost still feel the wonder and curiosity of a tourist. As familiar as these streets, buildings and busses now are, might I still be looking at them through the naive eyes of a newcomer? And might that taint my impression of it, hiding underlying truths which might be clearer to native Londoners from me?