In many respects I am in the antithesis of where I should be. I should be in the middle of nowhere amongst nature, or in a creepy shack in a liminal wood, or perhaps a house of mystery with hauntings and past atrocities aplenty.
I live in West London in what’s called the Avenues. I actually come from The East End of London (propa’ London) but moved over here when I met my then girlfriend, now wife. West london was always the part of town that we viewed with suspicion as Hitler didn’t drop many bombs there. Indeed when the old queen mother visited the east end after the Luftwaffe dropped a bomb near Buckingham palace she said she could look the cockneys in the eye… most of the east end and the docks were decimated, our ol’’ queen mum had the palace gates blown off!
Anyway what do I love, well of course it’s on the doorstop of museums, art galleries, every gig and genre of music you could think of and of course some of the worlds best bookshops.
When I leave my house, if I turn left I hit kensal rise and would bump into celebrities aplenty from the world of TV,Film and Music (I’m not going to name drop), if I turn right I hit the Mozart estate, crack houses and houses of radicalisation (jihadi John lived and played there (I thought you wasn’t going to name drop-Voice of my own jimminy cricket) )
where you live is only as good as your neighbours. There was a time I lived in a very Des-res, for 10 years, I didn’t even know my next door neighbour. Here there is a community. I don’t need to waffle on about cosmopolitan and diversity etc, they’re my neighbours and we all get on great.
Yes, the police helicopters overhead and the drug raids down the road and the police car chases can get a bit tiresome, but it’s where you live, it’s home. And did I mention the bookshops.
Photo- The “Avenues” of London W10:Wenborn
The Western Gate 
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