London at its best

IT WAS 6pm when I stepped out of Holborn tube station, gingerly juggling two trolley bags, my faithful laptop and a backpack stuffed with clothes. With mild disbelief, I saw the sky was already dark, but I knew I didn’t have to double-check my watch. 

The unmistakable smell of the crisp, cool autumn air and the familiar ringing of sirens in the distance confirmed that I really was back in London. In a few weeks, nightfall would crouch in even as early as 4pm and there would be more frequent rain as winter approached. Having had endless days of sunshine back home in Kuala Lumpur, such short daylight time is a harsh reality.