Years ago, when I was sitting and reading in my grandmother’s room back home, in a small village in Transilvania, I dreamt about living in the big city. I wanted the buzz, I wanted to meet new people and go to movies whenever I wanted, I didn’t want to use only the books and my imagination to travel. I didn’t know at the time where exactly the big city was but here I am, years later, living in London. It has been almost 9 years since I moved. Time flies in London! Actually, rather than flying, time is running along trains and buses, it elapses impatiently at red lights and when you are stuck at Vauxhall station in the rush hour. You are playing catch up with your time, checking on it constantly! Everything, the whole day, gets divided in 30 minutes, 20 minutes, chunks of time here and there. Life in London is built by segments of time, is not continuous or fluid, is pretty much calculated carefully and relentlessly. And it all adds …