A weekend in London:
Traffic noise, bombardment of the senses in all directions, frying sunlight – intensified by the London smog that hangs in the air – humid and heavy. Wandering through Chelsea with my travel rucksack and hole-filled trainers.
Noticing polished, sleek young women sitting idly at tables in the sun. Dark round sunglasses, straight backs, slender frames and olive skin, long thick hair and crisp white jeans. 50-something men saunter by in jeans and loose shirts and brown boat shoes…
…On walking a further 20 metres, come across a group of teenage boys, track-suited all in black with dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes. Encircled with bikes, smoking, shouting, cursing. Two different worlds - so close together yet so far apart.
The rustle of tall willows in Battersea Park – the sun illuminating the brilliant greens of every leaf. Groups of people lying lazily, happily on the soft grass, under a sun that pours down like honey (to quote Leonard Cohen) in the balmy, early evening.
