Matthew Weyer: Opening My Eyes
I had never planned on coming back to London.
Not that I’d had a bad experience my first time there, I just didn’t like cities. It shouldn’t be surprising, considering I grew up in a town with more cows than people. Cities’ bright lights, masses of people, and waves of cars are alien to me. I prefer the quiet countryside, the rolling hills, and the birds’ songs to any city, any day of the week. And it’s always been that way. No matter what city I visit, Charlotte, Atlanta, Chicago, or New York, I always feel the same: get me out of here.
When I studied abroad at the University of Winchester in the United Kingdom, I never expected my feelings to change. Winchester was perfect. An idyllic little town set in the English countryside, very much like what I am used to at home. I had what I needed, and more importantly, I had peace. The sweet breeze, the swaying trees, the fresh air that was like a drug every time it hit your lungs. No city could compare. They are all the opposite of peace. Hordes of people, rows upon rows of cars, honking endlessly. There is no peace in a city. Only bright lights and endless rushing from one place to the next.
When I visited London for the first time, I hoped my assumptions would be proven wrong. It was the first major European city I’d ever visited, so something had to be different, right?
From my first step off the train at Waterloo Station, my heart sank. I could already hear the waves of people and smell the bogged-down air. Exiting the station, I was met with what I’d come to expect from a city. Rows of cars stood still as if on a parade ground. Blurred faces rushed past, each in their hurried way. Walking away from the station did little to change my surroundings. Even when I crossed the River Thames the same sights met my eyes.
My dread got even worse when I approached Big Ben and the Parliament building. The crowd nearly doubled in size, making me feel like a needle in a haystack. I went about the rest of my day, walking almost five miles around the city. I saw all the important sights: Buckingham Palace, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Trafalgar Square, and many more. But everywhere I went, I kept my dreadful feeling with me. The architecture and history I saw were beautiful but overshadowed by the chaos of the city. When I finally returned to Winchester that night, I was grateful for the opportunity to experience London, but it was an experience I didn’t have to have again.
Then, my family came to visit in November and planned to spend the last three days of their trip in London. They asked if I wanted to come with them and, despite my previous experience, I wasn’t about to waste any time I had to spend with them. So, I agreed to return to London, hoping for a different experience than the last.
Driving into London, I was again reminded of why I didn’t like cities. It took us nearly an hour to go ten miles to our Airbnb and finding parking once we got there was a nightmare. But we persevered and eventually got settled into our little apartment for the weekend. Since it was nearly time for dinner, we decided to explore our surroundings and find a place to eat.
Walking down the road, we found ourselves on a riverwalk beside the River Thames. It was a pristine night. A slight breeze rustled the leaves. The river flowed past, carrying with it the twinkling lights of boats. A sense of calm filled the air as we walked, admiring the sights of the city. There were no hordes of people, no rushing cars, and no honking horns or shouting vendors. There were only others like us enjoying a peaceful night by the river. And that’s what it was. Peaceful. For the first time, I felt at peace in a city. I felt at home, as though I could live here the rest of my life and enjoy it.
It was like a switch had flipped in my brain. Instead of seeing London through my preconceived notions, I saw it differently. I peered through the bustle and the noise and saw the actual city underneath, and it was something I’d never seen before.
As my family and I continued to walk around the city, I took everything in with new eyes. I began to see the nature I hadn’t taken notice of before. Trees stood at attention beside roads. Parks and gardens were dotted around every corner, offering solace from the sidewalks. Birdsong floated through the air. The air was cool and fresh, offering no difference from what I was used to in Winchester.
I also began to see the people around me differently. They were still everywhere, but they had a different feeling about them. In the US, everyone walks in an urgent rush. But in London, the urgency was lacking. People strolled instead of chugging along. They took their time and would stop to admire the sights. Nobody was in a rush; nobody was yelling or cutting through the crowd like a bull in a china shop. People simply were. They took the time to take in their surroundings instead of rushing past without a second thought. The cars, too, were different. There was no cacophony of horns droning on. Instead, they patiently waited in the traffic and went about their day, much like the people walking about.
When returning to our Airbnb that night, we stopped to admire the Tower Bridge. It was a beautiful sight, lit up against the night sky. Here, I fully grasped why I felt peace. London wasn’t any different from other cities. On the contrary, I was the different one. My entire life, I had viewed cities through my lens, projecting my dislike for what is different onto them. This experience in London simply helped me open my eyes. Finding my moment of peace in London showed me the beauty and possibility of cities. Peace isn’t determined by where we are, it is determined by our comfort level and our ability to be uncomfortable. Finding peace in the uncomfortable unlocks our eyes to the beauty we hadn’t seen before and the peace waiting for us.
Matthew Weyer is a Business Major with an emphasis in Management/Marketing from Greenwood. He studied abroad at the University of Winchester in the Fall of 2024. After graduating in May 2025, he plans to return to Lander to obtain his MBA while being a graduate assistant in the athletics department.