London was very good for my physical and mental health. I somehow doubt that such a thought would have crossed my mind twenty years previously: indeed, it may well have resulted in an anxious chuckle stifled mid-flight by the thought that perhaps my sanity had taken a hike. I left London for a number of good reasons, returning in my late middle-age to what I thought would be the idyll and comfort of my home town in Devon.
No, the fact is, my brief visit was just the tonic I needed. Good company, good conversation, interesting people, great sights and brazen reality. My synapses were firing like they had never gone to sleep, with thoughts, ideas, memories and snappy stories connecting me with those around me; thoughts and words tripping over one another and blending into a thick and comforting soup.
Back home it all too often feels like I am surrounded by people who, with some exceptions, are easily manipulated by the establishment, or more likely their proxies in the press and social media, in all of their myriad guises and who create an impenetrable wall of ignorance and idiocy that, because I am a ‘nice person’, I feel uncomfortable challenging. If somebody really believes the Earth is flat no amount of evidence to the contrary seems to sway them. ‘Truth’ can be anything you want it to be and ‘opinions’ are often not opinions at all but prejudice, lies, half-truths or sophistry in disguise. In my home town I seem unable to connect with more than a handful of people; most people I know or meet in passing seem to exist in their unreality bubble and I exist in the real world. It creates a very disturbing dichotomy that saddens me immensely and from which, I am sorry to say, I have a tendency to hide rather than engage with.
I experienced no such feelings in London for two days, whether amongst old pals I had not seen in 45 years, bar staff in three different pubs or strangers I met all too briefly at my old university. All of them felt like instant friends and people I would like to return to the next day to continue conversations cut short by circumstance and train timetables. Now, of course I know that London is riddled with conspiracy theorists and people who believe black is white and who soak up lies because they really want them to be true. But somehow I managed to avoid them on my brief trip. I was amongst friends I planned to meet and strangers I met by accident but who became instant friends, if only for a far too brief time.
My walks around London restored my leg muscles to something like their former glory, but left me in some pain – and dehydrated. Walking from Waterloo to the Aldwych, from the Aldwych to the West End and Soho. Exploring the London School of Economics campus; discussing Political Sociology with a barman recently graduated from the LSE; sharing memories and life experiences with LSE staff. Regent Street, Berwick Street, Carnaby Street, Piccadilly Circus. Exploring jazz, soul, funk and reggae at Sounds of the Universe record shop. Discussing the pros and cons of living in London and the country (and brewing beer) with a woman working the bar at my favourite Soho pub – who happened to be from Dorset. Stocking up on West Indian goodies at shops in Peckham: Bolst’s curry powder, chana dhal, pigeon peas and Bajan pepper sauce.
Yes, I was footsore and feeling quite ill and, with help from a very friendly and professional Great Western Railway ticket office worker, managed to buy a Senior Railcard and a replacement ticket to get on an earlier train. Boy was I relieved to be on the 1803 to Newton Abbot. But boy was I going to miss the buzz, joy, brain-food – and sanity – that London can provide.
Photographs 1: Southbank
Stark shadows in the sharp morning sun emphasise the angles of the Southbank arts centres. I was particularly fond of the Paul Weller-style ‘Heliocentric’ roundels.
As ever, images may be cropped; click on an image to enlarge and view in true aspect ratio.
Photographs 2: The London School of Economics
I was very pleased to see that Wright’s Bar, where I enjoyed cappuccino and comfort food almost daily in the 1970’s, is still there! Geography is in a new building with Law on Lincolns Inn Fields. The Old Theatre is clean and tidy but very much the same as it was in the 70’s, but it seems the stage is not graced often with bands as it was in my day – Roy Harper, John Martyn, Coliseum II, Ultravox, Dave Edmunds and Phil Collins’ Brand X to name just a few. The 3 Tuns student bar still exists, but radically different to the basement sleaze of old; it was closed at the time of my visit but from the outside looked a shadow of its former self.
Photographs 3: The hotel – and meeting with friends
Sadly, I was so busy talking (and imbibing) that I did not take any photos of our group in the bar. Two photos of a small selection of our group by Stephen Bradbury. Most of us were LSE students and most involved in Ents, including our Social Secretary. Some were members of in-house punk band The DV’s (formerly Decaying Vomits!). My room at the hotel/pub (The Wellington @ Waterloo) – and the view from the window…
Colin Anderson 
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