Category Archives: Around the UK

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On a bus moving slowly through a busy London

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“Kids believe in Santa; adults believe in childhood.” Cate Kennedy, Dark Roots

I knew London would be busy, but I did not expect it to be as busy as shown to me by the 139 bus, on diversion around Trafalgar Square to Oxford Street. And I did not expect to see so many Santas.

Halfway through the journey, I was busy wondering if the bus would ever be able to make its way through the stream of shoppers on a pedestrian crossing, when I saw the junction to our left crowded in red. I looked again. They were Santas. As I reached for my camera the bus began to inch, and then to accelerate forward. The result was the blurred picture above, confirmation at least of what I thought I’d seen. I’ve no idea where these Santas were headed, or where they’d been.

At last the bus made it to Oxford Street and I jumped off. By this time I was late, and the pavements were packed. They were also very relaxed. Too relaxed. They were having a good time, meandering like slow rivers, ferrying family groups and their packages to and fro. I dodged and huffed, trying to make my way around and through the window shoppers, and out-and-abouters, as best I could, praying hard that I wouldn’t get run over by a flourescent pedicab. Somehow I didn’t. Even more miraculously, I arrived where I had to … and just in time.

On my way back I decided to cram on to the Underground. That was a squished experience, but it did take about one fifth of the time it had taken the bus to reach the same point. The downside was there were no Christmas lights, and there was no sign of any Santas.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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Car journey in slow motion beside the Thames

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It was bright and sunny and cold today as I drove through London. Thinking back over the drive, two pauses in particular have stayed with me. Both were at the ends of bridges. The first was at the pedestrian crossing, by the roundabout at the end of Lambeth Bridge.

A week earlier, on a freezing evening, I’d seen the roundabout and its occupant, a magnificent date palm, surrounded in cranes and flashing lights. A few days later the roundabout was still surrounded by barricades and lights, but in addition there’d been the sad sight of the palm on its side, ready to be taken away to who knew where. This afternoon those flashing lights and barricades had gone – so had the palm. The roundabout stood empty, with no sign of the breezy fronds that I often saw from a distance, flying beneath the Union Jack on the Houses of Parliament behind. The sight of that emptiness felt as though a friend had been taken away, with no time to say goodbye.

A slow crawl down the Embankment followed, with updates on the Covid enquiry for company. There were light clouds in the sky, and on the radio Boris Johnson was saying that at first sight the incoming Covid storm had looked nothing more than a cloud the size of a man’s hand.

As the traffic inched forward the news had moved on, stopping at the turmoil in Gaza. By Millennium Bridge we too halted, this time to allow a lengthy crocodile of young school children to cross at the lights. The red changed to green, and the green to red, and then back to green as we sat and waited for the smiling line to skip and dawdle its way over the road. As it did so, the cars and the bikes and the lorries watched. There was no hooting, no shouting, no revving of engines – all were as patient as angels, acknowledging and protecting the children of strangers, whose crocodile made the damage to their contemporaries in the Middle East scream more loudly still.

At last the school had crossed, and the traffic inched on through the winter greys of London.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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The cold was knuckle-biting in London today

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The cold today felt intense. It was underfoot. It was in the wind between buildings. It found its way down through collars, and into gloveless, aching hands doomed to hold packages that kept them from finding the shelter of pockets.

Perhaps by Canadian standards it was not that cold, but it still felt bitter to those of us used to the milder damp that fogs in over much of southern England at this time of year.

What did this cold look like? It looked like the hunched shoulders of the skinny young workman out for his lunchbreak without his jacket. It looked like the tight wrapped, long coat of the high-heeled office worker hurrying towards warmth. It looked like the one-armed, self-hugs of the smokers tucked into the corners of grey buildings. It looked like the taut, cold profiles of those pedalling through the freezing air on their delivery bikes.

What did it sound like? It sounded like the laughter and shouts of children running in the playgrounds, running to burn off the cold. It sounded like the seagulls calling and circling in the wind high above the buildings. It sounded like the empty spaces outside the bars, normally crowded with drinkers. It sounded like the gush of a door as people pushed through into the warmth beyond.

It is so fortunate to be able to head indoors, out of the cold wind. I hope that any on the streets tonight will be able to find some shelter and warmth.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023