There's something about the layout of London that lets it breathe more than big time American cities. Smaller buildings. Less congested. My neck isn't folded backwards as in New York city.
Around lunchtime, I find myself at St. Paul's. White marble cathedral gleaming from the afternoon sun. In the square, speckled pigeons flutter by the fountain, to the steps where a group of children wear pressed shirts and snack on crackers. From the far entrance, a single row of Buddhist monks, their robes the brightest reds and yellows crossing slowly thru the square before disappearing behind a tall set of columns. The battery to my camera dies out soon after. I kick myself each time I see another picture.
In the evening we take a bus thru the city on our way to Brick Lane. Home of Rough Trade record shop. Little Lower East Side. I feel like I should be playing Piano's or smoking 10 dollar Camel's. There are lots of vintage clothing stores, hip little coffee bars and Indian restaurants. We decide to eat at the one that doesn't feature bouncers ordering us to eat their dinner special. Afterward we walk back to the hotel.
