|sent from: London, UK. destination:|
It’s on my bike rides home, from Central London out to the South Western suburbs, that I feel most in touch with secret London, away from the tourist center. Leaning into the monumental sweep of a stately Georgian terrace that empties into a square with a park in its centre. The pubs near Parliament Square full of politicking suits. When I detour down a dead end mews and for a moment stand in the streetlight, silent. The playgrounds and corner shops of the South London estates. Passing niqab-shrouded women next to mini-skirted bar-hoppers in South Kensington. The bike lane leads me through the middle of a Victorian cemetery, silent stone angels flying against the fly. Some cities keep their tunnels hidden and labyrinths underground, but in London it’s all at street level, a knot of nooks and crannies, alleyways and passages, parks and pubs, monuments and mausoleums.