I’m back in London and it hits me the same way it always does. This city doesn’t need to convince me of anything. The grey sky, the buses showing up exactly on time, people ordering their tea like it’s some kind of ritual, none of it has changed, and that’s exactly why I love it. Notting Hill still has those white houses that look freshly painted. There’s a café with three tables outside and there’s still a queue anyway.

That’s London to me: it doesn’t shout, it doesn’t need to.