city of lights and sirens...

there are two impressions of this place which i think will remain with me for a long, long time... that is, unless something else particularly nasty or, conversely, awesome happens. one of these is the near constant sound of sirens you get in the inner city. staying with Lou's cousin Alex just off Brixton Rd in South Lambeth it seemed like every 10 minutes there'll be another siren. walking across Westminster Bridge, or past Buckingham Palace, or just about anywhere in Zone 1 and there'll be cops screaming past in full lights & sirens mode. walking back towards the Underground along Portabello Rd in Notting Hill and there was an ambulance parting the crowds like they were the Red Sea.

out in Beckenham has been much, much quieter. almost disconcertingly so. last night when i stuck my head out the door for some fresh air before bed (Lou's Gran keeps the heat high in here, so if i air out my room it cools down enough to be comfortable to sleep in) and all i could hear was a cat yowling off in the distance... probably being eaten by one of the urban foxes they get around here. i never see stray cats and dogs, but i've seen a few foxes. it's a little disconcerting - a reminder that i'm a long way from home.

out in the cold night air it was quiet. what i SAW, however, was 5 aeroplanes in the sky... probably circling Gattwick. remember, there are 3 or 4 different airports strung around this city: Heathrow, Gattwick and Luton (that i can remember off the top of my head). it was constant at Alex's place - in their attic room there were two skylight/windows. i'd be lying on my mattress on the floor under one of these watching the aeroplanes flying overhead, almost tracking the street, one after another after another. standing out the front of the house on the way in or out and there was a procession, one following the next, 15, maybe 30 seconds apart. look up in the sky around here and it's as likely to be a plane as a bird.

the drone of aeroplanes and the wail of sirens. the rattle of trains and the honking of taxis. standing on a street corner and hearing french, then spanish, then getting on a bus and being surrounded by germans. the loud expat aussies giving shit to the drunken irish guy while surrounded by english voices in the beer garden of a pub just off the south end of London Bridge. the sounds of seven and a half million people crammed into an area only slightly larger than Sydney. a cacophony constantly split by the oft ignored sound of this minute's emergency flying past to the flash of blue lights while miracles of engineering carrying hundreds of souls at a time soar overhead. the strangest thing is that despite all that when people ask me "so what did you think of London?" it's probably not going to come up. strange, really...