7. Saying Goodbye To London

London had been the dream for years.

PLEASE NOTE: Before continuing, make sure you’ve read the earlier parts of my journey. Click here to view all chapters.

7. Saying Goodbye To London

The previous post ended with a simple truth.

I was feeling a mix of emotions — relief, nerves, excitement, doubt.

And suddenly, I had arrived at my final week.

Not just my final week in the job.

My final week in London.

A city I had always dreamed of working — and living — in.

For years, London had represented something bigger — opportunity, ambition, the place where careers were built.

I had worked incredibly hard to get there, pushing through university, long hours, deadlines and responsibilities, all with the belief that this was the path forward.

Study hard.

Get the job.

Build the career.

That was the formula.

Or so I thought.

And now, after finally reaching that point, I was preparing to walk away from it.

Not just the job.

The city as well.

A Strange Mix of Emotions

Trying to describe how I felt that week is difficult.

It wasn’t one clear emotion. It was a mixture of several, all sitting quietly alongside each other.

There was sadness, of course. This job had been a huge part of my life.

The hours. The responsibility. The pressure.

Years of work had gone into getting there, and I knew that by leaving I was also stepping away from the obvious next steps — promotions, progression, the steady climb up the ladder that so many people work towards.

But alongside that was something else.

Excitement. I think.

Even though I didn’t know exactly what I was stepping into.

Which might sound strange, considering one very important detail.

I still had no plan.

Yes, I had a one-way flight booked to Bangkok.

But beyond that?

Nothing.

No route mapped out. No timeline. No clear idea of where I’d end up next.

And yet, despite all that uncertainty, one thing I didn’t feel was deep doubt about the decision itself.

That part felt strangely settled.

The Final Day

My final day arrived quietly.

Throughout the day there were moments where I felt almost numb.

Not sad. Not overly excited. Just… a strange calm.

Colleagues stopped by to wish me well.

There were cards, kind messages, and plenty of encouragement for the journey ahead.

My team had even organised a leaving gift — a voucher for an outdoor adventure and travel shop.

Everyone had chipped in, which meant I could buy something I genuinely needed for the trip.

I planned to use it to buy a proper backpack — something suitable for the kind of journey I was about to go on.

The kind built for long journeys.

Eventually the working day came to an end.

A few final conversations.

A few final handshakes.

A final look around the office.

I’d handed everything over.

Closed the laptop.

Cleared the desk.

Then I walked out of the building for the last time.

What a feeling that was — even now, it’s a moment that has stayed with me.

One Last Drink

Just around the corner from the office was a pub we often went to on Friday evenings.

A thirty-second walk from the building.

It had become something of a routine — a place where colleagues would unwind after the week, chat about work, or more often try not to talk about work at all.

That evening we gathered there again.

But it felt different.

This wasn’t just the end of another week.

This was the end of my time there.

There were drinks, plenty of laughs, and a lot of well-wishes.

Emotions were running a little higher than usual, and the drinks were definitely flowing.

It was a great send-off.

But sitting there, drink in hand, it hit me that this would probably be the last time I’d be in that pub for a very long time.

Who knows when I’d be back.

Eventually the evening came to an end.

Goodbyes were said.

And just like that, it was over.

Goodbye colleagues.

Goodbye office.

Goodbye London.

My bags were already packed back at the rented room I’d been living in with my housemates — in a house in Clapham North, South London.

The deposit had been sorted, the room cleared, and everything I owned for the journey ahead was ready to go.

The next stop wasn’t the airport just yet.

First, I was heading to London Euston, catching a train back to stay with my family for the final few weeks before departure.

A small pause before everything changed.

London had been the dream for years.

Now it was simply the place I was leaving behind.

You can read more about my Journey by clicking here.

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