After passing Waterloo Station
June 29, 2016 § Leave a comment
After passing Waterloo Station (and the old discarded snake skin of the Eurostar Terminal as was), I pick up my 76 outside the Waldorf, and it then takes me past the front doors of the Royal Courts of Justice, St Paul’s Cathedral, and the Bank of England—an amazing journey home every night. I document Brussels, Munich, Vienna, Berlin, as this is my world, and it is very easy to overlook and take for granted the glory of the capital city of the British Empire that I live in. Easy too to take for granted the glory of the woman who takes care of me and gives me her love and provides me this calmness and tranquility that I feel in my life these days, like an emotional no fly zone, making me safe from all outside attacks so I can go about my business undisturbed for the first time in my life. She is the miracle of my life, the second one, and I do feel a deep sense of wonder that she has given her love to me, and yet this does not stop me needing to assert my determination to be myself, and do what I have to do to irrigate my soul. My trips to Europe are absolutely essential, even if like Kenneth Williams’s trips to Tangiers none of them anymore are what one could call wholly successful, because they keep the pendulum swinging. Similarly essential, if marooned in London, the visits to the —.