On the 11th of November, we flew into UK from Heathrow and spent a night in London. It was gray and wet in the afternoon, yet I have grown to love the rain and drizzles, and even more so, what came after the shower - the dancing reflections on the wet pavements.
We ambled about near Tower Bridge in the drizzle, but as we emerged from the Underground of Westminster Station, the rain has stopped and I realized once more, how beautiful a post-rain city can be.
Here, the Westminster Lion stood. Nice to see you again, sir.
The white London Eye turns pink in the night.
And I confess to have gone overboard taking pictures of that giant fairy's wheel.
It was near Remembrance Sunday then, and many poppy themed reminders remained while Christmas decorations have yet to take their places.
On the Golden Jubilee Bridge we walked.
Early winter was in the air with a slight tint of chill. Yet autumn had not released its hold with trees still leafy and full. As the winter sky lost its blues, I think I have not seen London as pretty as then. On the wet and not too crowded Trafalgar Square, I felt at peace and content. Tranquility in the heart of London is hardly something I expected. But it was good. The world faded away, it was just you, under the sky, a darkened Nelson Memorial and its pride in front, and classy galleries and buildings around. It was quiet despite some vociferous tourists and the city traffic.
For a moment, I was charmed. However, the enchantment was instantly shattered as we wandered towards Leicester Square. There, the Worldly reigned and it was anything but peaceful. We made out way to the China Town for dinner, and I took another lion picture along the way (as this is one of my obsessions).
It was really nice to meet Kynson again and thanks bro, for agreeing to have dinner with us. I wish you the very best in your future as you strive towards the vision you have as a servant of the Kingdom. Take care!
On the next morning, we took our leave through Kings Cross Station (the one from which I went to Paris in June) and we traveled westward, under the typical English weather into a very very drenched Bristol. The score was 36 days of rain (and still counting), or so one of the taxi driver told me.
We ambled about near Tower Bridge in the drizzle, but as we emerged from the Underground of Westminster Station, the rain has stopped and I realized once more, how beautiful a post-rain city can be.
Here, the Westminster Lion stood. Nice to see you again, sir.
The white London Eye turns pink in the night.
And I confess to have gone overboard taking pictures of that giant fairy's wheel.
It was near Remembrance Sunday then, and many poppy themed reminders remained while Christmas decorations have yet to take their places.
On the Golden Jubilee Bridge we walked.
Early winter was in the air with a slight tint of chill. Yet autumn had not released its hold with trees still leafy and full. As the winter sky lost its blues, I think I have not seen London as pretty as then. On the wet and not too crowded Trafalgar Square, I felt at peace and content. Tranquility in the heart of London is hardly something I expected. But it was good. The world faded away, it was just you, under the sky, a darkened Nelson Memorial and its pride in front, and classy galleries and buildings around. It was quiet despite some vociferous tourists and the city traffic.
For a moment, I was charmed. However, the enchantment was instantly shattered as we wandered towards Leicester Square. There, the Worldly reigned and it was anything but peaceful. We made out way to the China Town for dinner, and I took another lion picture along the way (as this is one of my obsessions).
It was really nice to meet Kynson again and thanks bro, for agreeing to have dinner with us. I wish you the very best in your future as you strive towards the vision you have as a servant of the Kingdom. Take care!
On the next morning, we took our leave through Kings Cross Station (the one from which I went to Paris in June) and we traveled westward, under the typical English weather into a very very drenched Bristol. The score was 36 days of rain (and still counting), or so one of the taxi driver told me.
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