No place like home

In the past couple of days I have spent time in all three of the cities that at some point in my life I have lived in. Back in Amersfoort, the town I was born and raised in, I have apparently become somewhat of a tourist attraction. People were stopping by because they heard I would be home for the holidays. For them, Amersfoort is the place they most closely associate with me so going there means coming home. I don't really feel it as such. Amersfoort is a nice, fairly pretty place and, having spent 20 years of my life there, I know it well enough but I just don't feel a strong connection to it. If anything, home in Amersfoort is my parental house. My old room is still there, looking pretty much the same way as it did on the day I moved out all those years ago. Except of course it is full of moving boxes these days with most of my stuff in storage there...

Amsterdam is where I feel at home. I love my apartment there. I have lived in my place for close to 9 years and it is really the place that best reflects who I am. But it's more than that. Amsterdam has always been special to me, even before I moved there. Living in Amsterdam has been great. It took me a long time to get to know the city properly -my infamous lack of directional sense again- but in the end I knew just where to find those nice little shops and restaurants, I had my personal hairdresser, my favourite park and have memories all over the city. All the things that make you feel you belong rather than are just a visitor.

Now, in London, I have to start all over again. I still can't find my way even around the centre. Leave me at Picadilly Circus and tell me to walk to Covent Garden and there is a fair chance I'll end up in Notting Hill. I have a supermarket but am still in desperate need of a good hairdresser, dry cleaner and shoe repair shop. And I won't be able to find any of the nice restaurants and pubs I have been to with others any more. My house is not a home either. Although my room is cluttering up at amazing speed, it's mostly with paperwork, books and clothes. I don't buy anything unless it is functional because I know I'll just end up having to move it again. The house is fine but it isn't my own space. I like London, I really do, and I can picture myself living here for another while but it is still a long way off from truely becoming a home.