I travel continuously, and I see many cities, but there is

In the words of Norman Foster: “I travel continuously, and I see many cities, but there is nowhere like London.” At first, these words may appear as simple praise of a beloved city, but they carry a weight deeper than geography. They speak of the bond between the traveler and the place that shapes his soul, between the restless seeker and the homeland that remains, despite every journey, the center of his orbit. For Foster, who has seen the skylines of the world, London is not just a city, but a spirit, a living chronicle of history, resilience, and renewal.

The origin of these words rests in the life of Foster himself, a man who has shaped cities with his art of architecture. He has stood in the grand metropolises of the earth, from New York to Hong Kong, from Berlin to Abu Dhabi. Yet even after walking among their towers, it is London that stirs his heart most deeply. Why? Because London is not merely built of stone and glass—it is built of centuries of endurance and reinvention. It has burned, been bombed, and scarred by time, and yet it rises again, each age layering its character upon the last.

To understand Foster’s sentiment, we must recall that London is a city where contradictions live side by side. It is ancient and modern, royal and common, stately and chaotic. It holds Shakespeare’s stage and the hum of global finance, the whispers of Roman walls and the steel wings of Foster’s own architectural creations, like the Gherkin rising in the heart of the city. To a man who has seen countless urban forms, London remains unique because it does not erase its past but weaves it into the fabric of the present.

History itself testifies to London’s singular character. When the Great Fire of 1666 reduced the city to ashes, it was rebuilt not with despair but with vision. When the Blitz rained destruction during World War II, Londoners endured in defiance, their city becoming a symbol of human willpower. Such trials etched into London’s spirit a character unlike any other—resilient, adaptable, unbowed. This is why, despite the brilliance of other cities, Foster calls it peerless. To him, London is not merely a place; it is a testament to the strength of survival and the artistry of renewal.

Yet Foster’s words are not only about London—they are about the universal truth of belonging. For every traveler, no matter how wide his journeys, there is always one place that feels like the heart’s anchor. To dismiss this truth would be to misunderstand the nature of travel itself. The Odyssey of Homer shows us the same pattern: Odysseus wandered among foreign shores, yet it was Ithaca that called him home. In like manner, Foster, though he designs for the world, feels the pull of London’s streets, skies, and riverbanks.

The meaning of this quote, then, is profound: home is more than comfort; it is identity. You may travel endlessly, encounter wonders beyond imagining, but there will always be one place where your soul recognizes itself in the landscape, in the voices, in the rhythm of life. Foster’s declaration about London is a reminder that amidst the vastness of the world, there must always be a center—a city, a village, a hearth—that roots you to meaning.

The lesson for us is clear: honor the place that holds your heart. Travel widely, yes, see many cities, broaden your vision—but do not forget where your spirit feels at home. Learn from Foster’s reverence: cherish the resilience of your own homeland, the traditions, the struggles, and the triumphs that have shaped it. And if you do not yet know such a place, seek it—find the city or land where your heart feels whole, and let it anchor you as you walk through the wide world.

Thus, Norman Foster’s words become more than praise of London; they become a teaching for all travelers: the world is vast and full of marvels, but every soul must have its sanctuary, its Ithaca, its London. Travel will broaden you, but home will root you, and between the two lies the fullness of a life well lived.