Third Time’s A Charm
A hat-trick of travel London revealed that the beauty of the third visit lies in what you rediscover about the city and yourself.
The perfect amount of times to visit a city is three. On the first you're struck by the fresh sense of possibility and wonder, hoping to make memories that stick hard and fast. On the second you arrive with enough familiarity and intentionality to navigate the experiences that shape your stay. It's the third visit really in which you form your deepest connection. "Welcome back," the city seems to say, for you already know many of its secrets. It has less to hide and you less to uncover. Though you may chase that original feeling, or hunt for novel experiences, you’ll learn much about yourself in the process.
My “third time's a charm” cities include Barcelona, Lisbon, Miami, Madrid, and most recently London. On each visit I'm reminded by who I was when I first stepped off the plane and who I am on this third trip. Airports hold so many memories greeting you upon arrival, some bitter and some sweet. There’s a discordant sensation as soon as the plane meets the tarmac that fills me with equal parts excitement and nervousness.
My previous trip to London (the second visit, the middle child) came at a time of renewed self-exploration on the cusp of a new chapter. On my first day back on trip #3, I sat down on the same bench as two years prior in the Queen’s Garden in Regent’s Park. Last time around I had packed a Charles Dickens novel and now I had an Agatha Christie mystery to keep me company. Delightful flowers of all colors danced in the breeze. Autumn announced its arrival through trees turning orange and red There was no sight of the Queen but plenty of singing birds and other little critters.
Even in another period of change, looking around at my surroundings reminded me how much life moves on. More people populated the benches than my last visit, and afternoon sun brightened the foliage more than early morning's dim light. When you return to where you once were, observing the differences in the people and place around you reminds you how much you've grown in that same time frame. That's a good thing. It's often hard to admit, and to accept, but really, it is. I left the park feeling satisfied and hungry to see if that one crepe spot in Primrose Hill was still open. As luck would have it, it was.
A long strip of grass lined by trees on either side in St. James Park.
The view of London from the top of Primrose Hill.
Autumn beginning to arrive in Regent's Park.
The majesty of the Eiffel Tower.
Most of the people in London are mad; it's brilliant. The throng of powder-blue collared shirts that spill out of offices after work and rabid chanting football faithful both share the same passion — and many, many pints. They'll knock you one clean if you're on the other side and get too cheeky but when you're one of them you're family forever. God save the King and if the local football club pulls out a cracking 90+ minute winner there's waves of divine ecstasy, the Hail Mary of cheers when the ref’s whistle blows. Though after attending both a Spurs and Chelsea match, I've not gotten a single clue to what exactly they're chanting. A word to the wise, though, to remember that some lads only watch rugby.
Its reputation for art and history is a core component of the city. The National Portrait Gallery holds rich portraits of some of my favorite deceased Brits like Henry James but then a few minutes later I saw a photographic portrait of Raheem Sterling. The British Museum holds lots of things it…probably shouldn’t. Larger museums, like The National Gallery and Natural History Museum, hold collections that could fill some smaller museums ten times over. For a dive into modern war, The Churchill War Rooms and Imperial Museums memorialize the fighting spirit and resiliency that carried the nation to victory through WWI and WWII, losing generations of young chaps in the trenches of France and surviving constant bombing during the Blitz. These well-preserved windows into the past show the true breadth of the city and country’s contributions to the world.
World-class musical talent is also quintessential part of London’s identity. Oasis and the Beatles were produced further north but this city made PinkPantheress and Central Cee. Call it a draw. Seriously though, the firepower this city had in shaping the Rolling Stones, The Who, Pink Floyd, The Clash, The Sex Pistols, David Bowie, Elton John, Adele, Amy Winehouse, Coldplay and Dua Lipa is incredible. These artists had people on the streets in Boston yelling “the British are coming” like they were Paul Revere on horseback. UKG house and drill started in small and dark clubs but now have a global foothold. The Victoria & Albert Museum will soon be opening its public collection of thousands of artifacts from David Bowie, which is terrific, but the opening was delayed so I missed it. Next time, starman.
London’s food scene may be defined by the traditional UK staples, but those focused on mince pies miss part of the uniqueness of what the city has to serve. I'll forever stand up for fish and chips and mushy peas, a full English breakfast with extra beans, and refills on coronation chicken sandwiches at high tea. But just as worthy to brag about are Brick Lane’s lamb vindaloo, late night Döner Kebab, French duck l’orange, and other unique cuisines which you’re hard-pressed to find elsewhere, like Sri Lankan and Afghani. Some streets have a Mexican taco spot next to a Chinese shop next to a Moroccan halal restaurant and that sentence could end with “walks into a bar…” The diverse gastronomy which London possesses is a singular advantage over some of its European counterparts. Though a Yorkshire Pie is quite a nice lunch.
All the while London has bits that make you grimace. You may leave the tube hot and sweaty and find yourself in a smelly square and think this place is a bit rubbish, innit? Why I’ve just seen twenty pigeons feeding out of someone's hand in Piccadilly Circus. There are 47 people taking pictures in front of me on Tower Bridge. Someone's dropped their Nando's in Leicester Square, damn shame. Waitress told us to keep our phones in our pockets with plenty of snatchers afoot. The smog which covered the manuscripts of Dickens is gone but it's still bloody raining most every week (though it's always sunny when I visit). A few bald and broad blokes in the pub keep looking at us funny. This lad at the club is claiming that he has a lot of substances which I’m frankly not interested in, nor do I think he really has them under his Brixton hoodie. Grittiness is an important part of a city.
London offers opportunities to witness moments where time stands still. When Big Ben chimes you might roll your eyes at tourists taking videos, yet thousands of heads snap up at the sound to hear the bong bong bong in unison. When the bells of St. Paul's Cathedral toll at 5 pm and Evensong begins it’s divine. There's infinite peace to find in innumerable royal gardens speckled throughout the urban jungle of Underground stops and wide streets carrying double-decker buses. The views of the Thames from any bridge you cross is magnificent. It’s even better when you see them at sunset from an Uber boat or a ferry, best enjoyed with a 175 ml bottle of prosecco. Even on days that seem rainy, grey and gloomy the cafés have the refuge of hot tea and the pubs of cold pints. On top of Primrose Hill the whole city rests before my eyes and the sun casts long shadows on the lawn filled with people and all my worries disappear. These moments gift me an immeasurable clarity for why I’m here and what I want my life to be.
A masterclass 3-0 from Spurs against... League One's Doncaster Rovers.
Chelsea players racing to see who gets a red card first in a 3-1 upset against Brighton (Trevoh Chalobah 53').
Always support your local pub.
My good friend Henry James and I.
Enough about London now, innit? Madrid is also a recent debutant to my third visit club. It’s the city I lived in for sixty-one days before the Covid-19 pandemic sent me packing. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of the city — I always say hasta luego when I leave — since it shaped me so much as an individual. So much growth awaited me at nineteen, living, studying, and working in a new country. I connected with a different culture, perfected a language, and formed lifelong connections. Gen Z philosophers call this one “the ‘study abroad changed my life’ mindset.” Madrid will forever hold a special place in my heart, for many reasons, and I would leap at the chance for another long-term stay there. De Madrid al Cielo.
In all of my hat trick cities, I'm able to situate my personal growth in the context of each one. It's about getting to know yourself, sharpen your identity, expand your worldview, strength your values, and experience as much newness as possible. I'm grateful for all the people and places that have led me to where I am during these trips.
So if you’re curious enough to visit a city more than once, the treble is perfect. Next up, I suppose Paris deserves a third rodeo, though Mexico City is already nudging me for two more. But it was London, on my hat-trick of visits, that said "I'll always be here mate." In the midst of changing winds and seasons, London helped me rediscover some of the fundamental joys of my existence like food, football, and friends. The best parts of your life will always find their way back. That’s the magic of a third visit, to realize that most of what you want to be happy is already in front of you. If you're lucky enough for a fourth, the city will welcome you back with open arms, a place that's not yours still called home. You’re a guest, not a stranger. You've found a place that holds every version of you — who you were, who you became, and who you’re still becoming. Cheers.