Sometimes all you need to do is leave. Leave the Amsterdam tundra behind you, close the door on your regular life, hop on the Eurostar, and one train ride under the sea later, step out into the buzzing, wonderful, deeply addictive city of London.

There is something about arriving in London that makes you feel like anything could happen. The scale of it, the noise of it, the constant sense that there is always something going on somewhere and you are already slightly late to it. Everyone walks fast. Everyone looks busy. It is exhausting and thrilling in equal measure.

And yes, you will spend all your money. Partly because the city is very good, and partly because London currently treats coffee and pastry like a small luxury tax. But honestly, once you accept that fact, life gets easier.

Recently, I did exactly that. Packed up my things and went. Thank you Eurostar Snap for making it cheaper to pop over to London than to take the train to Rotterdam (hallelujah). Here is how I spent 48 hours there, and maybe it will leave you with a little inspiration.

Where to stay

Stay at SIR Devonshire Square. Beautiful rooms, generous space, the kindest staff, and already taking MVP for comfiest bed of the year. Plus, some of the rooms have window seats, meaning you’ll have your little Lost in Translation moments. Perfectly positioned between the City and Shoreditch, which means everything you actually want to do is within reach. Check in, put your bags down, lie on the bed “for five minutes,” and immediately begin reconsidering leaving the hotel at all.

But London waits for no one.

Day One

Ease into the city slowly. Breakfast at the hotel is genuinely worth your time. Get the salmon scrambled eggs, fresh orange juice, and do not even entertain the idea of skipping the hashbrowns. Start as you mean to go on.

From there, head to Nagare for coffee. London has become deeply competitive about caffeine, and somehow, everyone is winning. The coffee is excellent, but more importantly, you are legally required to order the salted caramel canelé. Crisp outside, soft inside, slightly life-altering.

Take the long way through Shoreditch afterwards. Pop into a few stores, pretend you are considering moving to London, people-watch, and ponder. If the weather is good, walk through Columbia Road and let yourself drift a little before lunch. London is best experienced slightly aimlessly.

Lunch is at Rochelle Canteen, tucked behind a wall in Shoreditch in a way that makes you feel like you are in on something (you’ll ring the bell and will find yourself in the cutest courtyard ever). Get the Parmesan biscuits immediately. The asparagus is particularly good right now, and the elderflower jug somehow turns sparkling water into a spiritual experience.

After lunch, walk over to Record 28 Books on Hackney Road and allow yourself more time than you think you need. You will pick something up “just to look at it” and suddenly thirty minutes will have disappeared.

The afternoon belongs to art. Head to Tate Modern for the Tracy Emin exhibition. I could have stayed in there forever. You know, when you leave an exhibition wanting to make things again? To write, paint, call someone, start over slightly? That type of exhibition. Raw, emotional, hopeful, and beautifully tender. You are in luck. It’s on until August 31.

Afterwards, walk the South Bank toward the Hayward Gallery. Even if you are tired, keep going. London rewards momentum. Check what is on at White Cube, too, before you leave the area.

By evening, you should absolutely go for dinner. If you are craving Italian, head to Dalla. If you want a British classic, go to St John, and personally, I would always throw my hand in the fire for St John. You must order the bone marrow with smoked salt and herb salad and the fish of the day is a no-brainer. Trust the process. The Negroni will also definitely do things to you.

End the night at Spacetalk. So sexy, grown, dimly lit in the correct way, with the exact soundtrack that makes you want to stay for one more drink even though you absolutely should not. I had the rhubarb highball, and it was perfect. 

Day Two

Wake up slightly disoriented and head to Norman’s Cafe for breakfast. Go full English. Childhood dreams fulfilled. For reasons I cannot fully explain, eating there makes me feel like I am inside a British sitcom, and I will not elaborate further.

There is always room for breakfast dessert, particularly on a Sunday, so stop by Layla Bakery afterwards for coffee and something sweet. London takes pastries seriously, and frankly, so should you.

The rest of the morning is for shopping.

Start at MEIWAI, an appointment-only concept store with archival designer pieces and Japanese-inspired fashion that makes you want to become a more interesting person immediately. Then move to Dover Street Market. Window shop, floor shop, emotionally spiral a little, maybe actually buy something if you are feeling brave. The key is to take your time. DSM rewards the thorough visitor.

Afterwards, head to IDEA and prepare to lose hours of your life. Then continue the theme at Climax Books. 

Lunch is at BAO, which completely blew me away. Order the pickles, the plum sake, and the steak rice bowl with cured egg yolk. Do not skip any of it. If you did not manage to get a reservation, try walking in anyway. Optimism is important.

The afternoon is for wandering. London is one of the few cities where getting slightly lost consistently works in your favour. If you can get into Spazio Leone, plan around it. Otherwise, just walk. Pop into whatever catches your eye. 

In the evening, check the programme at Village Underground. We saw Acopia there, and it was so cute and perfect! I rarely go to concerts on trips, and it was so lovely to see live music, but also to be immersed in a different type of crowd. 

Dinner is at Miga on Mare Street. Delicious Korean food that feels deeply comforting without ever becoming too heavy. Get the hoe, the kimchi, and the braised short ribs. Book ahead and arrive hungry.

If the night still has legs afterwards, begin at Mu and end at Bar with Shapes for a Name. 

The thing about London

72 hours is not enough. It never is.

There will always be one more gallery, one more restaurant recommendation saved somewhere in your notes app, one more bar you hear about halfway through the train ride home. But maybe that is the point.

London is a city that leaves you slightly unfinished. You never really complete it, you just keep returning to it.

And somewhere around St Pancras, slightly hungover and carrying too many books, you will probably already start planning the next trip.