London calling

For some reason, London has never really been one of my favorites. “Bad food, worse weather” as they once put it in the movie Snatch. A swirling mess of fog, fried carbs and five centuries of imperial guilt jammed into a modern-day Monopoly board.

But I cannot deny the allure of a sprawling urban area that has been an important location for thousands of years. Even though I’ve been here several times before, there is always something new to discover. This city has been bombed, burned and polished up more times than a Soho bartender’s pint glass, and yet, here she is. Always calling.

Roaming the streets of London.

The weather is cold and unforgiving, as one would expect from London. Even the Romans realized that, two millennia ago. But today there is spring in the air, which can bring a smile to even the most hardened souls. So we had a beautiful sunny walk through St James’s Park, smelled the cherry blossoms and got ready to fight the ninja squirrels.

The usual crowds in Camden.

Then it was time to face the darkness once again. We took the tube up to Camden, where the alternative stores are lined up to relieve you of your money. Tourists come in packs, eyes wide, wallets open. But from the corner of your eye, there’s something interesting to be found, and it’s not just the flat lager or the cloud of diesel and stale crisps. Up here, far from the stampede crowds of Leicester Square, one can hear the sound of punk still echoing in an alley behind a record shop. The limp yet proud legacy of the city’s gritty past.

London’s calling. Just make sure you’ve got an Oyster card and a strong liver.

“Yes, London. You know: fish, chips, cup ‘o tea, bad food, worse weather, Mary fucking Poppins…”
— Avi, Snatch (2000)