My Kind Of Town

I love London....

And I am enjoying 'Sherlock' very much. In this contemporary remake of Sir Conan Doyles 'Sherlock Holmes' the two hero's are played by Benedict Cumberbatch (great name) and Martin Freeman. Cumberbatch is perfectly cast as the 21st Century Holmes and Freeman is bringing a different, and immensely likeable, side of Dr Watson to the fore. The series has obviously been made with foreign sales in mind as it showcases London to perfection. Many of the iconic landmarks are featured and London looks very beautiful, if slightly dangerous. I watch it and think how lucky am to live in the great city. Viva la London.

I love my car...

But I also love going to work on the train. If I am planning a night out after work I try to organise my day that I won't need the car and have been catching the train occasionally. It is all so civilised. I stroll down to the station, wait a few minutes on the platform and invariably get a seat on the train (which is always clean and on time) and, not for me the Metro or a book, oh, no, for me the chance to look at 'hidden London'.

Peoples back gardens (trampolines are in almost every Deptford Garden), glimpses through windows of men shaving, women applying make-up (we may be travelling past very fast but if you don't draw your curtains we can see in you know), people smoking on their balconies, vast estates of high rises with no people to be seen, wild overgrown acres of land, a wildlife conservation area I didn't know was there, tucked away behind a tall fence I drive past every day, building sites stirring, huge machinery rumbling into action, the muddy inlets that feed the Thames. At one station a man with child in a buggy alighted to be met by a woman who took the child from him and with a quick farewell (although their eyes never met) he jumped back on the train to continue his journey. The grown ups barely had a chance to exchange more than a brief word and the man certainly did not have time to say goodbye to the child. I had time to see the woman's relieved face as she was reunited with the child. And the mans resigned face as he left the child. I look round the carriage and wonder where people are going and what their life's are like. In my car I see none of these things or experience any curiosity about my fellow commuters. Cars are very isolating and they are the physical box we put ourselves in. Similar to the mental box I hide in now and again and from which there is only one escape. Writing. The train ride for the mind.

I don't love my new job...

Yet. But it has only been a week. I think I loved my previous job a bit too much.