14 months later…
I went into town on Sunday. Before we start, this isn’t one of those “I was out doing something perfectly allowable under the Covid regulations and I saw other people doing something perfectly allowable under the Covid regulations and WHAT WERE THEY THINKING? DO THEY NOT KNOW THERE IS A PANDEMIC ON?” posts.
I wanted to go and see the National Covid Memorial Wall. Its placement directly opposite the palace of Westminster felt like an incredibly poignant gesture.
Adjusting back to a post-lockdown world is going to be a strange experience. I found the tube busier than I expected, but central London astonishingly empty still, like scenes from 28 Days Later.
The horses on Whitehall looked bored and lonely without a knot of tourists taking photos of them.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Trafalgar Square so empty, and that includes at 4am in the morning in the late 80s trying to get the last night bus home to Walthamstow?
I know it was a Sunday, but being able to cross Regent Street at will without even looking up from your phone because there’s literally no cars or people is … odd.
Then I went to a pub and sat outside and quietly read a book. Happy times.