When big cities sleep
I love breathing in London during dawn’s early hours. There’s nothing quite like it, and through sleepiness emerges new, fresh life.
During the wee hours, I could be cruising through any other place in the world; quiet, its citizens (mostly) fast asleep.
London, like New York, Tokyo and the most bustling of stop-overs, is usually such a buzzing busy metropolis; though at this time of day I feel a little like a player tip-toeing softly behind the scenes of a great show’s curtains. It’s early but it’s beautiful. There’s no better opportunity for mindfully indulging.
Being almost-May, there’s a soft blue light glowing across the sky, rather than the oft-pitch black we’d be speeding through at other times of the year. Cooper and I are on our way to TBEX – Costa Brava; Richard Marx’s Hazard plays moodily on the radio and I take this, a rare moment in a car (rather than humming along on public transport) to breathe in such a serene and extraordinary sight as London in her early morning bliss.
Interestingly, The Londonist ran a piece on such a state, just as I was simultaneously pondering it – their romantic monochrome image gallery by Matthew Joseph is well worth a browse.
