Almost 13 years later, I finally work in London

Almost 13 years ago, I moved to London—or at least, that’s how it seemed to everyone back in Italy. In their minds, I packed my bags, landed in the UK, and immediately became another Italian in London. And technically, they weren’t wrong. My first address was in London. My official documents said “London”. When people asked where I lived, I didn’t hesitate to say “London”.

But here’s the thing: I never really worked in London. Not in the classic, commute-into-the-city, grab-a-coffee-before-your-shift, navigate-the-lunch-rush kind of way. I entered the remote work market very early—long before 2020 made it mainstream. I voluntarily hot-desked at a WeWork in Southwark in 2014/15, and when I did get an office job, it was in Oxford. But at that point I had already relocated to a smaller town in South-East England, settling into a life where London was still “the city,” but not my everyday backdrop.

Until now.

It’s weird to say that out loud (or, well, write it). Up until last month, I had never experienced the daily rhythm of actually working in the city.

It’s a funny paradox, isn’t it? People think of where you live and work as a package deal. But modern work culture—especially in the digital space—has shattered that expectation. You can live in one place and work for a company based anywhere else. You can be based in the UK and spend your entire professional life on video calls with team members in New York, Seoul, Bahrain, or the Canaries. That’s been my reality for years.

Now, for the first time since moving here, my job is physically based in London. I don’t just visit for the occasional meeting, meetup or conference, but actually work in the city I once called home.

It’s funny how different it feels. I spent years living in London without working in it, and now, having settled outside the city, I suddenly find myself commuting back in every day.

There’s a certain familiarity to it—old routes I used to take, streets I used to walk. But at the same time, London changes so fast that it always feels slightly different. You notice the little things: a new building where an old one used to be, a station entrance that’s been redesigned, the subtle shifts in how the city moves.

And then there’s the professional side of it. Working in London feels different from just being in London. You start paying attention to things you never did before: the best shortcuts to avoid rush-hour crowds, the most efficient ways to move around, which Pret locations have the shortest queues at 8:45 AM (if you know, you know).

It’s like stepping into a version of London that I used to be close to, but never fully part of.

Commuting is an adjustment—but there’s a rhythm to it. The train ride, the movement of the city, the transition between home life and work life. It’s a shift, but not an unwelcome one.

There’s also something about being part of the morning rush—the unspoken camaraderie of commuters, the routines people fall into, the familiarity of seeing the same faces. London has a certain energy in the mornings, and being in the middle of it again is a change, but an interesting one.

This shift—finally working in the city I first moved to 13 years ago—feels significant, but also strangely natural. Like it was always going to happen, it just took its time getting here.

Maybe it won’t change much in the grand scheme of things. Maybe it’s just another chapter in my ongoing UK story. But for now, it feels like a full-circle moment. And it’s pretty cool.