This is true. However...
Having lived in small places, and big places...London has an air of FOAD that I loathe. Maybe it is me. Maybe I have a face that people just want to punch. But every time I get on the effing Virgin tilt trains and struggle to sit without my shoulders being pushed into the next seat by the wonderful trapezoidal interior offering less space than an Ryanair/Easyjet cheap seat to Magawhatsit, then get to Euston, exchange 1 pee for 30p, get on the Northern line, attempt to get on again as somehow forcing my svelte 100kgs into a carriage that looks like Norris McWhirter should be overseeing for the Guiness Book of Records, then try not to touch the handrail with my actual skin in case one of the millions before me that morning decided not to wash their hands, then deal with the oppressive heat, then get expelled at the other end into blissful fresh^W less hot air to then walk to our office, avoiding the, what I assume is, litter collection but looks to be the entire contents of someone's bedroom, gone past all the lovely independent shops that seem to change each time I am there.....I usually don't feel like talking Screaming, usually, but not talking.