When I first stepped off the Overground, it felt like a different city. Not just because it had old Victorian houses mixed with modern ones in the same street. But because all the people walking by painted a really different picture from Kentish Town, the calm neighbourhood I had been calling home for the last two weeks. As much as you can call an Airbnb home, anyway.

The fact is I had no reference at all about West Hampstead before I got here. And this was probably the reason why I got butterflies in my stomach and excitement when I first saw West End Lane. After a few weeks of intense search and desperation to find a place to properly call home, I felt like this might actually be the one. But I mean, it is not difficult to love this place.

In a typical day, you will take the Jubilee line until the West Hampstead Underground station – which is a gift, since this means you can be out and about 24h and still get home by tube. If you are lucky – or late enough – you will be welcomed with classical music tunes as you step up the stairs to the street. I never really understood why the TFL workers like those tunes. Still, one must agree how fancy it is to get home to Mozart after a chaotic day of London fuzziness on the tube.

Then, you’ll leave the station and turn left. You will pass by a flower shop, followed by a burger place which has different desperate discount offers every day. Right after that, you will find the hidden gem of the neighbourhood: the Nisa local. The off-license shop is like Hogwarts’ Room of Requirement: you will only actually notice it if you need it. And yes, they do have everything. But it is not only for the contents that this shop is unique: it is specially because of the people who work there. The corner-Nisa is run by a family of kind Kashmiris men.

At first, I must say, I was cautious when talking to them. It was not a matter of racial prejudice, let me explain. It was rather because, in only two weeks in London, I had already learned that the Brazilian friendly manners might be seen in a wrong way – specially if you are a woman. Thus, the last thing I wanted was to cause this first impression in the neighbourhood’s local off-license. But when it comes to Nisa’s Kashmiris men, it was a positive surprise.

They would always help to find the products, ask me the name of my favourite wine to order it more often and even gave me and my friends hugs and a chocolate bar on Christmas week. If you happen to pass by to buy a loaf of bread, cheese or wine and offer a smile, they will probably smile you back and ask about your day. If you look sad, they won’t interfere but surely will wish you well and indicate good brands of digestives and sweets. So please, when passing by, come inside.

Okay, after this brief stop, you must turn left again. If it’s the day, you might have to slow down because of the many old-ladies with their grocery shopping trolleys. Or because of the well-dressed-up dogs walking and passing you by – they will usually be wearing fluffy sweaters, probably even more good-looking than yours. If its night-time, though, I must prevent you about the launderette you will see in a few steps. Go straight and don’t look left if you are easily scared. If not, be prepared: for reasons unknown, an ancient angry bust will be staring at you from inside the shop. Yes, I have been scared by it a couple of times. And sometimes it is funny to observe people walking by and getting frightened themselves.

Passing the laundrette, you will find a violin store, followed by hipster café and a nice bar with full windows. I have never been there, but I find it odd how they close so soon – at least for my Brazilian Standards. Keep walking pass by a Vietnam restaurant and to a couple of shops on the right side of the street. It is said that the owner is a Russian mafia guy, who can be seen drinking vodka in one of the stores once in a while.

Keep walking. You will finally get to the beautiful enormous Victorian Mansions of Broadhurst Gardens. I must say I was quite disappointed when I found out that my flat is the only non-Victorian building in the street, but anyway. Each of these mansions probably has two or three different families living inside. Perhaps the ones who walk their baby trolleys in the morning, or jog when it’s raining. Or walk out the well-dressed dogs. All except the ones in one flat: the one right before my building.

This one mansion seems to be home for homeless people – this is just a guess – or, at least, some people who have a really different lifestyle from the rest of the neighboors, let’s put it like that. Their windows are filled with newspapers, sheets and drawings. If you pass by at night, one of the occupiers might stick his tongue out for you from one of the rooms, or laugh or scream. Yes, it is inconvenient and weird, but harmless – so far.

And this is it. You have now got to my building. It is easily recognisable for being architectonically distinct from the Victorian Mansions. It is a more modern, full of coloured-door flats building. I recently found out that it is set in a place where a bomb fell in WW2. Later on, the building was constructed by the government as an estate for workers to live in. But nowadays, you might easily find all sorts of people here. Walking by in the morning, waiting for the bus in the street, picking up apples from the garden behind or taking out the recyclable trash. After six months, it finally seems like home.