The Silence of London

One thing that always intrigues me of London is its silence. The Silence of London is almost a miracle, an extraordinary event one would not expect, which takes place when you are walking down a busy road and magically you find yourself alone, or when you wait for the next tube to find the train empty. It might happen whilst you walk through Regents Park near the rose gardens, or the little alleys between South Kensington and Knightsbridge where I used to work as a barman when I was a student, or the streets of Marylebone. It does not really matter where and how it happens. In those instants the city appears for what it really is: a timeless masterpiece that has been here before the chaos of Oxford Street, before my drunken nights in Soho (would you believe it?) and that it will be here after me, and millions of people after me have come and gone having done their time here. This blog is about my time here, and the 365 days leading to my departure.