Summer was in its full force the past few weeks in London. The temperature went up to a whopping 31C, and the East Asian roots in me would soon take out my purple and flowery anti-UV umbrella out of fear of getting tanned (and wrinkles).

I took advantage of the rare glorious weather to do a lot of walks all over. I explored the streets of the City of London, from St Paul’s churchyard to little alleys filled with bars and cafes often overflowing with lawyers and bankers in their work dresses and suits, beer in hand. I also ventured further into my neighbourhood, up to my favourite Primrose Hill and then went as far as the Parliament Hill at Hampstead Heath (finally).

London’s summer days are wonderful. It is no wonder that the Brits talk about it the whole year round. I had been curious about this phenomenon ever since I set foot on this land last September. I just about caught the last bit of last year’s summer before the temperature began to drop, the leaves started falling and the day steadily shortened. It was in some ways terrifying and rather depressing.

The reverse, however, is magical. As we put the winter firmly behind us, the sun was shining a lot longer, flowers blossomed and the trees looked like some balding dudes finally finding a brand of hair tonic that worked.

Normally not a massive fan of the heat, for some reason I felt enamoured by the long summer days. There was something energising about seeing the sun still shining and being able to enjoy sunsets after a long day at work.

On this very sunny note, I would also like to take this opportunity to let you know I have sadly moved out of this city that I love so much, to an even warmer place: home.

It is quite sudden and not entirely out of choice, so I am still taking in the big changes that are currently happening in my life.

I built my life in London piece by piece, one job at a time and laying foundations of friendship one stranger at a time. To have them all taken away so suddenly from me felt like Jenga blocks crumbling after one wrong move which wiped out an entire structure that had been stacked so high. And there was nothing I could do but watch it all happen slowly and altogether, while getting ready to build a new block someplace else.

But I’m sure everything would work out fine eventually. For now I just need to navigate myself in this “new” familiar place again while being nostalgic about the glorious London summer that I just left behind.

Because a lot of good things are, after all, just like the British summer. It was intensely amazing but had to end way too soon.

Yet, who is to say that there are no more colours in autumn?