It is surreal being in a city where cars have been minimised. The streets are empty of traffic but for buses, and pedestrians don’t own the roads, but walk with leisure. Where there is traffic, there is a kind of even bargaining-power between pedestrians and cars for road access.
Walking out my door and see the top of the London Eye I am reminded I’m in a place that is not quite home. The chill dry 10° air adds to the sense of wonder.
Across from my accommodation is a children’s play equipment that feels a level up from anything the Canada Bay Council ever provided.
Across from my accommodation is a park which I walk into without a care in the world. There is a tent with smoke coming out of it that appears to sell food. I asked them what’s on offer and they say jerk chicken. I recall last time in London when I had to get them to explain what jerk chicken was.
As I wait for my order, I look around the daffodils in the park and listen to the radio on in the background. On the radio the journalist is interviewing a local politician about vacant land tax policy. The journalist appears to grill the politician for inconsistencies in a way that I’m not used to in Australia.
Picking up my order there is a wonderful smell of barbecue sauce. I realise there’s enough here for both breakfast and lunch. I ponder sitting with the tulips and the daffodils but decide to keep going.
Walking through the tunnels to get to the underground at Waterloo station at 8.30 brings in a strong sense of the familiar and different. There is a very strong sense of being at Wynyard commuter hour.
Leicester Square station feels likeSt James station, but expanded out times 10.
Coming out of Leicester Square station I hit the theatre District and I wonder of white brick 5-story buildings.
I pause for a moment and have breakfast chicken with William Shakespeare. His messages “there is no darkness but ignorance“. Whilst I appreciate the self-congratulatory nature of the message, I note that the statue was put up in 1874, the full height of British Empire. As I said, William argues with me, and says that he is ambivalent to the nature of empire and wants to celebrate the the playful flexibility of language and its tooling for many contexts. Then Shakespeare tells me that the meaning is the opposite. As Feste (the fool) in Twelfth Night mocks the pompousness of Malvolio (and perhaps the Empire Minded) for their shaded knowledge.
I walked past a vast TWG tea shop. A symbolic reminder of when ships sailed the world carrying tea as a primary source of international trade.
When I walk through Piccadilly Circus, I am entranced by the white buildings. Here I have a video call with family evening with background picturesque.
A tea shop offer desserts that seem a level up from what I’m used to.
I walked past a book shop offering gift subscriptions again a service I’ve never heard of but seems wonderful.
I pause outside another tea shop waiting for it to open, and snack on some gloriously smoky barbecue chicken.
The coming of the hour is marked by an exuberant chiming clock, It’s mechanics celebrating its Victorian design. Appreciating the attention, the clock goes on to play another four bars of a different tune.
More accent delights, clipped tongue, glottal stops, consonant clusters, and many more.
Walking back to the station I find two delights one a Japanese desert place offering a strawberry cream cake.
Second I find what appears to be a coffee shop actually offering Turkish Salep (warm drink).
At Kings Cross St Pancras station I see a sign on the escalators that says “please stand to the right.” Mystery partially solved but missing the reasoning.
Another underground to Kings Cross Station.
I pause at Euston Road to say hello to the Isaac Newton statue outside the British Library. I have some thoughts about this Newton Statue that I’ll put in another post. (The artistic message of this statue is a punch in the face.)
The train to Crewkerne leaves Waterloo station and pauses at Clapham Junction. That feels familiar.
The train signs strongly indicate a preference for quietness, but are ambivalent about eating and subtle on litter.
Dad greets us with his dog Trixie. Later we go for a walk around the village, and squirrels dash up trees.
Dinner at The Ropemaker. Dog Friendly Pubs!
Lots of good conversations with Dad.
