Walking in London
Everything is twenty minutes away in London they say – it’s a nice walk too.
When I moved to London around eighteen months ago, it was the first time I had to get around without a car and clearly my skinny legs were not up to the challenge. People were flying passed me on the pavements, overtaking, undertaking with no warning. The complete anarchy on the gum-stained streets of London were overwhelming at the least. It was as bad as driving, fumes came from the person in front thanks to the smoking ban, and the worst of all is being stuck behind a learner. A slow walker is possibly one of the most frustrating moments in life. They leave no overtaking room and are oblivious to the traffic they are causing behind them and then it gets worse. If they are carrying luggage and dragging a suitcase, a suitcase wider than the pavement you cannot help but shout MOVE! in your head of course because we are far too polite to create a scene.
As the weeks went on, my spacial awareness had to increase and my brief walks were not so chaotic. Slowly the adrenaline rush of overtaking others became an addiction. Be it a mother with a buggy and bags of shopping or an old granny with a pulley-bag, I overtook them all and loved it!
There is the converse of walking in London, the quiet walks away from the busier roads. The slower paced walk allows one to absorb the surroundings; the handsome architecture of town houses with the autumn leaves swept neatly to the side, the small parks where children walk their dogs enjoying the lowered sun glowing goldly at them, and then, the snow fell.. and kept falling and what an image that left. Everyone saw the spectacular shot from the BBC of the UK covered in snow. Children played and constructed sculptures of igloos and snowmen, and the change in weather left a white glow around the streets which was passed onto the people who walked amongst the snow. Snow walkers immediately had a smile on their face and greeting others naturally as if they knew each other.
I suppose this script has no moral ending nor does it imply a message of any but rather an expression for my love for London.
