Welcome to the world of hotness
Stone me, it’s warm out there.
No, really.
Humid-hot.
The kind of humidity I’d expect in Hong Kong – monsoon season.
Prince and Purple Rain.
Thanks for asking.
Anyway.
Kilburn – right now.
Anyway the hotness.
I walked briskly – didn’t run – about 250m for the train, yet I feel as if I’ve just come out of the shower.
If I’d stuck to the plan I’d have made it on time, on target.
But I got seduced.
All day vegetarian breakfast – £4.70.
So I caved in.
And as a result of my greed my planning went out of the window and I had to walk quickly for the train.
Erm, hope I’m on the right one!
Just going past the new Wembly stadium.
From here it doesn’t look as imposing as I’d thought it might – no more statuesque than Old Trafford (which I know v.well from the year of living in Manchester).
A track called Neanderthal – don’t ask me who it’s by; the person who flipped it at me didn’t give me that fragment of information.
But it’s good; very rocky.
Sudbury Hill Harrow just went past.
Where?
Oh yes, Northolt Park.
There’s a house – just down there – with a miniature observatory dome in the back garden.
The thing is with London is it doesn’t sell itself very well.
It’s too easy to focus on the negative; the positive rarely gets as emphasised as the less good.
I suppose an element of that is the nature of the news media – bad news is (for them) good.
I’ve seen, this morning, many good things and… thinking about it… no bad.
The nature of a capital city (well, most capital cities – Luxembourg not included) is a crush of people in a rush.
All busy, concentrating on getting from A to B and anything else is ignored until it can be processed at a later time or date.
Therefore it’s easy to see a capital city as a large, impersonal heaving morass of nameless faces.
And that, let’s face it, is not good; not conducive to the natural state of humanity.
I see that Amy has described me as Arty Slightly Odd Guy.
OMG Amy, throw a guy a lifeline, wouldja?
In your eyes I’m either Uncle Perv or Arty Slightly Odd Guy?
Doomed!
Beaconsfield out there, The Feeling in my ears.
B.