Home.

Have you ever gone on holiday, arrived in the city and felt like you're home?

You're a million miles away from your real home. You've never even set foot in the country and all of a sudden you feel this overpowering sense of welcome and comfort and peace of mind. You breathe in the air like you own it. You look around you admiring the scenery but somehow knowing it all like the back of your hand. You walk down the streets and everybody seems to smile at you. It's sort of like a "welcome home" smile. You accidentally bump into someone. They say it's totally their fault. Then they hear your accent and stop to talk to you for a while like an old friends would catch up.

This has always been pressing on my mind ever since I came back from New York. I know it's dreadfully cliche but I felt such a beautiful sense of belonging there it was ridiculous. The people I met didn't even recognise me as a tourist half the time. I've never felt such belonging before in my life.

I knew as soon as I stepped out of that taxi and looked around my manhattan surroundings that I was going to come back and live my best years here. It's a promise I'm going to hold to myself.