adventures, life, travel

The buzz, the buzz of a city…

I took a bus through part of London today, something I rarely do, preferring the speed of the tube or walking the back streets. But it was nice to watch the city pass by.

The city called me/so I

came

– Emmy the Great

The buildings, some Victorian, some older, some new and glass fronted. The columns of St George’s Church in Bloomsbury, the narrow alleyways you can almost see the Artful Dodger vanishing down.

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Photo via Twitter

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life – Samuel Johnson

I didn’t take photos, blurry through the bus window, I just took it in. The quirky old fashioned gentlemen’s outfitter, the caf├ęs and restaurants serving cuisine from every corner of the globe.

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Picture via Twitter

That mix of old and new, those glass fronts amongst brilliant red brick, the people rushing by.

The title of this post is from a song about San Francisco by Vanessa Carlton, but London hums, the trains beneath the streets, the traffic rumbling past. The ranks of black cabs and red Boris bikes, hundreds of languages carried by the wind.

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Via Twitter

What has always fascinated me is how organic London is, it grew not from plans drawn up in an office somewhere, but from necessity, taking in farmland and spitting out city.

There are hundreds of stories, both real and read in this city. The echoes of Twist and Holmes, the Ripper and Whittington. Soaked into the paving beneath our feet.

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Via Google

ramblingmads

paris, travel, wish i was there...

Paris, mon ami

Is there a place you’ve visited that you could happily move to? Although I fell for Venice last year when I went there, my heart still belongs to Paris.

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I love London, it’s my hometown, it’s where my friends are and as Samuel Johnson said

when a (wo)man is tired of London, (s)he is tired of life.

But Paris, especially in Spring, is beautiful. My French is atrocious, but I can learn, I have French names so I would fit in, a whole district and I share a name.

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I love the faded glamour of Montmartre and Pigalle, the wealth and gloss of the champs Elysee. The view from Sacre Coeur and the gargoyles on Notre Dame.

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The madness of Parisian drivers, reversing down one way streets and ignoring traffic lights, the bistros on every corner, the Metro, the smell of fresh bread.

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I don’t find charming the fact that no one scoops the dog poop or how rude shop assistants are.

But nowhere’s perfect, right?

Where’s your favourite place?

ramblingmads