I’ve lived in London for thirty years1. Somehow.
I’m not entirely sure how it happened. It was never the plan. Not that I had a plan. If you’d asked me where I wanted to live, I probably wouldn’t have picked London.
I applied to a handful of jobs at the tail-end of my stint at university2. The one job offer I received3 was in London. That’s how it started.
To give you an idea of how arbitrary it all was: my first employer had offices in central London and in Surrey. I looked at the train lines and found that Wimbledon was about half way between the two. That’s where I ended up.