I read something this week that made me feel a bit sad. The author of one of the first (and most original and interesting) London blogs I found and followed has called time on her documentation of exploring the city. To quote Steph from Little London Observationist: "Now, after living here for seven years, I still crave new discoveries, but I also long for familiarity – places that are mine, that I can return to over and over again, where the people making my tea know my order by heart, where people in my favourite shops welcome me back with a smile, where I have a seat by the window in cafe that always makes me feel inspired every time I sit there." Steph's words made me feel initially sad - I won't get to read her tales of exploring anymore - but they were also entirely understandable.
Sunday, 18 May 2014
London looks its finest from the Hungerford Bridge, after work on a balmy summer evening. Memories of the office fade away, swallowed up by crowds of tourists, and the sight of that iconic skyline over the River Thames. And last Thursday evening was the perfect night to perve over London - warm, sunny and full of the promise of summer. I was trotting over that particular bridge with the Accidental Cousin, to explore the Southbank Centre's annual London Wonderground festival which opened earlier this month. London Wonderground offers up music and performance, all with a side of weirdness and wonder. Its tiny cabins have recently returned along the river, selling food and drink beneath strings of twinkly lights, forming a wooden fairy ring around the festival's main venue - an impressive Speigeltent.