Eating char-grilled chorizo sausage in ciabatta with rocket and roast pepper (or capsicum, from my previous life) at the Borough Market.
The tube map.
Breast-stroking my way around the Ladies Bathing Pond at Hampstead Heath, dodging ducks and lily pads (after the shock of the cold water has worn off).
Reading the papers on the weekend - in particular, the Saturday Guardian and the Sunday Times. Especially if they are giving away free DVD's!
Sitting on the top deck of the 43 bus, lurching past the Bank of London, the Monument, and Tower Bridge as the sun rises over the Thames.
The vast Turbine Hall at the Tate Modern. It takes my breath away every time.
The incredibly detailed directions people give you ("..on your right, you'll see a window box full of violets, you want to head left past the Kings Head..if you reach a bridge with a chapel in the middle, you've gone too far..").
Taking your plush red velvet seats at the Royal Opera House as a hush falls over the crowd.
Walking along the cobblestones in Covent Garden, humming "Wouldn't it be luverly?" to yourself.
The transformation that takes place when it snows.
Drinking champagne at the Fumoir bar at Claridges (fancy!).
Shavasana at the end of a hard yoga class at the Life Centre in Notting Hill, lying blissfully on your back and gazing at the clouds drifting over the skylights.
Boarding the Eurostar at Waterloo and arriving at Gard du Nord in Paris 2.5 hours later.
The excitable audience at the Prince Charles Cinema.
The ridiculously varied regional accents.
The first note of the orchestral score at a West End musical, with excitement in the audience running high.
Looking at the ever-changing, always stunning shop window displays around Regent Street and Bond Street.
Feeling the weight of history under your feet and fingertips, everywhere you go.
*Please note: this list is subject to change or deletion at any time; especially when it has been raining throughout most of the "Summer". Thank you.