When I was a poor student at LSE back in the 70s, the atmosphere was electric with leftist dreams. As I said, I was poor, frightened, shy and confused. London held no magic for me. Poverty blinded me to centuries of history. Close encounters with Pakki bashing and skinheads did not help.
I worked in the evenings in Queens Theater selling 25p ice cream tubs from a tray around my neck. I was beautiful and the bouncer very kind who threw out an old man who told me to go home, brown filth!
I also worked in Littlewoods which no longer exists and i was elected Miss Littlewoods, much to the annoyance of some racist old ladies. I would drown my sorrows in a currant bun and tea from ABC shops. And hated Brits as colonizers, pillagers, murderers and white supremacists, though the term did not exist back then. I gnashed my teeth at a catholic convent education which robbed me of my roots, hated Shakespeare and my beloved poets and writers. Wanted to demolish the V&A museum which holds many subcontinental artifacts.
I hated London!
I went back as a rich tourist in the 80s. I fell in love with London. And today my love affair with the city has not lost its magic. I would happy depart USA and my McMansion to live in a modest flat in central London. Hell, walk out catch a bus and not drive at all. Haunt Food halls of M&S . You get my drift.

I do believe when we agonize and bewail and obsess over anything at all it comes from a place of deep love. It upsets me when Umair describes conditions in UK as appalling. Perhaps having lived in London for years it really does hurt Umair to see only a smattering of food on shelves, NHS in utter disarray etc etc. all that he hyperbolizes.
I’ve not been to UK in a while so i really cant say how i would react to actually see it through Umair’s eyes. But i can tell he hurts.