A Tale of Two Cities

We went to London yesterday.

Big whoop, I know. But it was a part of London that I do not frequent, so it was almost like visiting a different city.

For those of you in the US (and those in the UK who didn’t pay attention in geography class), London is located in the southeast of the country, nestled on the Thames (pronounced, for no apparent reason, The TEMS). And I don’t say this condescendingly; before I moved here, I thought it was much further north.


And London is also a big city, which is why, after more than twenty years in the UK, I have still not explored all of it.

The actual size of the actual, ceremonial City of London—traditionally called, The Square Mile—is, oddly enough, 1.12 square miles, with a population of 8,600, but Greater London—all 32 boroughs of it—measures about 600 square miles (1,572 square kilometres), with a population of 9,787,426 (oops, make that 9,787,425—someone just got knifed). And the Metropolitan area—basically everything inside the M25 Orbital—has a population of 14,843,257 (ah, make that 14,843,250-ish, just to be safe; it includes Croydon, after all).

The area we visited was up around Kings Cross Station (with its famous Platform 9 3/4; Harry Potter, don’t cha’ know; ask your dad), which was a huge construction site when I used to frequent St. Pancras Station for work.

This was a big hole in the ground the first time I visited the area,
though I did manage to get to Platform 9 3/4 some time later.
Photo credits: I don’t know, I stole them off the web somewhere.

Years before that, my wife tells me, the area was known for its drugs and prostitution; not a place you’d want to be after dark. (Although, maybe you would; you do you.) Anyway, now it’s all spiffy and squeaky clean and filled with shiny new buildings that no one can afford to live in.

More expensive, but a lot nicer, than when I saw it the first time.

The people who used to live there probably had to make the “life-style choice” of moving into tents further down in the city.

This, according to our recently sacked Home Secretary, is a life-style choice. No, I didn’t make that up. I don’t have to come up with humorous quips any more; the Government does it for me.

Anyway, we were there to see the immersive David Hockey: Bigger & Closer (not smaller &further away) exhibit in the Lightroom. It was very good, worth the £32.50 and fifty-two minutes of standing around (there were a lot more visitors than seats), and it had the edge on the Van Gogh experience due to it being narrated by the artist. If they had managed to get Van Gogh to narrate his immersive experience, it would have made a big difference.

Great visuals, interesting narration, few seats.
If they had gotten Van Gogh to narrate this, it would have been better.
I guess they couldn’t settle on a fee.

After the show we took a wander along the canal that flows through that part of London. It was stunning, and remarkable, with the path, the boats, the water, all still and tranquil and peaceful. And Quiet. You wouldn’t know you were in the middle of a huge city. It made me think of the canals we walked in Birmingham during our Commonwealth Games visit there in August 2022.

The London Canal.

In both cities, the canals and the canal boats looked the same, but there the similarity ended. Whereas the London canal was tranquil and quiet, the Birmingham canals thrummed with life, being lined with pubs, restaurants, and residents. In London, the canal rolled through canyons of gleaning, high-rise offices and ultra-luxury flats owned by Russian Oligarchs. The London canal smelled like money; the Birmingham canals smelled like curry.

The Birmingham Canal. Fewer oligarchs, more curry.

After our sojourn, we walked around the corner to The British Library because, well, there’s books there, as well as number of cafés, shops, and study areas. It was, in a word, immense, and exploring it (just a bit of it) was a satisfying end to our day.

Really, it is seriously huge.
And, in addition to all the amenities, they also have art installations. This one is called, “Exhausted Student.”

And, having done my usual, cursory research for this post, I now see that we were a stone’s throw from the Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221B Baker Street, so I’m sure we’ll go back.