Love London

The new layout at the airport confused me. I could see the shuttle bus I needed to take to the railway station, but not how to get to it. So I wasted several minutes going in the wrong direction and the bus I had seen departed. Fortunately another arrived almost immediately. It was nearly empty, as was the train to London. Until we reached St Pancras. I looked up from my book and saw a sea of faces on the platform. Not all those people boarded the train, but as travelled through Farringdon and City Thameslink stations the train filled up. I got off at Blackfriars and made it to the bus stop just in time to see my bus pull away. Joggers dodged the pedestrians; commuters talked earnestly into mobile phones; the Thames flowed sweetly under the bridge. It was a beautiful evening.
After being the countryside I was struck, as I always am when I return home from less populated areas, by the hustle; the sheer number of people; the energy. I couldn’t decide whether I was pleased to be there or not, though I was increasingly impatient to see MasterB.
He was more interested in going into the garden. Within seconds I realised his pleasure at seeing me was more that I could let him out of the flat and into the big wide world than in an emotional reunion. Ah well, he made up for it later, and this evening.
His absence made it easier to unpack, get some food shopping, and make some supper. He came inside a couple of times, had a cuddle, then asked to go out again. I say asked, the correct word would be commanded.
And anyway I had my own social encounters; the downstairs neighbours; Mark from down the road; a ‘phone call asking if I could do a job this morning (yes); another good acquaintance in Marks and Spencer.
Heading for the bus this morning I saw Cynthia. Come to the pub tonight, she said. Cherry and I shall be there. Yes, I said, thank-you. I shall. From the top deck of the bus, I saw Helena looking summery and relaxed, and met her later in the day when we stopped and talked for several minutes, making plans to do something soon. While I was working I saw three friends, also working, we waved and smiled at each other. I was thinking about Michèle, wondering if she might be about, and then saw an email from her, asking me what I was up to. Arrangements have been made. Reinhild sent me a text and joined the pub outing. At the pub I saw Chris, now walking with just one stick.
Celia is a way for a few days, and I don’t know what Octavia is up to, but I am fairly sure to catch up with both of them soon. If anyone claims as fact, as in particular some journalists like to do, that London is an anonymous, unfriendly city, take it with a pinch of salt. I live in a community.

2 thoughts on “Love London

  1. You described living in one of London’s “villages” perfectly. MasterB, your personal physical trainer, was so thoughtful to get you back on the stair count immediately. Your continued good health is his primary concern. Welcome back.

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