Hating it

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Today London was in a bout of nothing weather. Over Waterloo Bridge I dutifully recalled Dunbar, looked up to Westminster and down to St Paul’s, saw a few bits of Wren poking up into the smog among a countless swarm of cranes and constructions. A cormorant sat on a pile mid-river, unconcerned, and a surprisingly large tree drifted downstream.
1 Thames
Drury Lane was away from the worst of the traffic, but still the city stank and shambled around its landmarks like a dull dirty bun studded with a few half decent currants. No change from Pepys’ day, then.
2 Drury
Heading back to the station later, what might have been the same cormorant flew across the river, looking ridiculously like Graculus.
a
The first available from Waterloo was the slow train. Luckily I baked some experiment biscuits last night, which emerged from the oven with approximately the same specific gravity as brick, though unlike brick they are stuffed with wholemeal flour and butter, brown sugar and mixed grain cereal, dried fruit and almond slivers, egg and spice. No dirty buns there, I believe; and two were enough to sustain me on the long run home.
3 ballast
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5 responses »

    • Grubby is the word. I keep imagining London must once have been more beautiful and inspiring, less striving and crowded and dirty,but then whichever century I imagine it in, I know it must have been crowded and filthy and even more disease-ridden.

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