Freezing fog is pleasing to the eye. It rimes everything from cars to cobwebs with thick white frost and gives the world an insular quality which I rather enjoy when commuting. However, it is very unpleasant to walk through, especially at seven o'clock in the morning.
Today I had a reserve shift in central London. I turned up at Charing Cross Station, waited for everybody else, was informed I was not needed and sent home with three hours pay (not bad for a morning's work). As I happened to be in town, I made my shivering way down Craven Passage and trotted up the steps to the bridge.
I had forgotten how beautiful London is. The early morning light washed everything silver and gold, picking out the detail of Westminster Palace and the pepperpot chimneys of the government buildings downstream of it. The glassy water swelling around the foot of the bridges, the ghostly outlines of towers and skyscrapers of South London, the rattle of the trains behind me.
Home. Hello London - I'm back.
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