tired fools

I blame the french. They’ve got form. Think Rainbow Warrior in Auckland Harbour. And it would make sense of Chirac’s comments yesterday.

Ok, maybe not. Whoever they were, it gave me two decent walks today, the first after missing a bomb by 2 minutes. I was impressed by how mellow everyone was. People just got on, smiled, maybe used the disruptions this morning to grab a coffee and talk for an extra few minutes. There was a sense of “Oh, bombs. Yeah, they’re back.” Like it’s the past couple of years that were odd.

This evening I strolled back from the city. It was a beautiful quiet evening. St Paul’s looked great (look no cars):

I walked along Cheapside, one of the oldest roads in the city. I saw things I’ve never noticed before. As I passed beneath St Mary le Bow church the bow bells tolled.

It wasn’t the hour. They went on and on, maybe thirty or forty times. And what does that mean? Let’s ask the nursery rhyme:

“Oranges and lemons,”
Say the bells of St. Clemens.
“You owe me five farthings,”
Say the bells of St. Martin’s.
“When will you pay me?”
Say the bells of Old Bailey.
“When I grow rich,”
Say the bells of Shoreditch.
“When will that be?”
Say the bells of Stepney.
“I do not know,”
Says the great bell at Bow.
Here comes a candle to light you to bed,
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head.

The bank of England looked great (look no cars):

And across London Bridge, with many many others (look no cars):

Thankyou London for a particularly good walk (look no cars).

A new phenomenon, this time around, is SMS.
I got maybe forty messages today to see if I was ok. Which is ok.
They came from all over. So many in fact, that I began to wonder about those that hadn’t reached out.
Bastards.

Tags: london