|Embankment, Monday Night, Live Jazz playing|
The place sits on you, broods on you, stamps on you ..."
Henry James, 1869
|Trafalgar Square, Blue Cock, London Eye|
London. A literary haven. A treasure trove if you can ignore the heat and the crowds and let your mind wander. London is people, characters in a play. Buildings the set. History, the back story. The ground rumbles with its heartbeat. The asphalt shimmers. You can merge with the mass, or find a rare quiet seat and watch these same crowds, daydream, imagine their lives, their backgrounds, their London stories.
I've had an Absolutely Fabulous (wink, Jennifer and Joanna) sojourn here, for a dear friend's fairytale wedding in Wimbledon. And lucky for me, a few extra days afterwards to rest those dancing toes and whiz around all my favourite spots in central London.
|Hummingbird Bakery goodies from Sou Ken. Delicious!|
|The famous 'Boris Bike' for hire. Loved them!|
Dare I divulge?
Pencils, those glorious, wonderful creative instruments. Every gallery had them, every museum. Trinkets, I told myself, even if they were exquisite. I held out until the final 24 hours. So, dear reader, you might think my suitcase was weighed down with the latest of the London high street, but alas, no. One word. Pencils.
I didn't take too many pictures, but here are a few taken with my phone; quintessentially London snapshots.
Au revoir, dear London.
|Old, New, and Newer. Tower Hill, The Underground, The Shard|