So. London. Big.
Noisy. Crowded.
I imagined being a visitor
from some far flung corner of the Empire coming face to face with these vast buildings, seemingly impermanent, the
embodiment of Empire. No wonder we pulled off that trick for so long!
This
was not my first trip to London. As a boy I spent an improbable amount of time
running away and tradition had it that I should head for London.
Tired
and hungry, I decided to hand myself in to the police. And at Scotland Yard at
that. The copper out front was having none
of it. "This is just an admin centre, we don't even have any
cells..." he explained, making me stand and wait for a van from Paddington
to come and fetch me.
I wonder
if the tea and pies they serve at Paddington now are as sweet as they were to
that cold eleven year old?
An any-year old, only gets death-wish burgers, or carbon boot-print pizzas!
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