I've been back in Sydney for a year now, and London has become one of those memories that sit much further back in the past than it should... highlights, the big trips, important occasions, all have faded... in fact, the memories that are strongest now are the really small things, street names like Greek Street, Waldour Street, Charlotte Road... I remember the first time I walked from Picadilly Circus following that immense curve of old buildings that barricade Regent Street and ending up at the National Gallery - later discovering the round-about route I had taken... I remember first seeing the room that contained a Holbein painting and Da Vinci drawing that made me feel years behind in my own art, and subsequently taking blow after blow as I inhaled more of the genius in just about every room over every return visit...
I remember passing William Hill, Ladbrokes, Coral and all those bookies searching for a spare 10pounds for the weekend Chelsea game (and scraping together another fiver for Lotto)... I remember being intrigued by crappy make-shift signs advertising models which led up long stairwells with red walls... smoking to keep warm & content... finding life indoors at that pub in Bayswater... being surprised by just how easy it was to get any drug you desired...
I liked how it was almost always cold and I enjoyed wearing big coats that had enough pockets for plenty of pens, novels and sketchbooks... my real vice was buying all these pens that I would never use, just feeling better armed than being unprepared...
There was a fantastic Summer's day in Green Park and it was a rare sense of camraderie as I settled on the green lawn with a throng of pale-skinned locals, I remember getting into an argument with an English man (dressed immaculately) near the Ritz... he refused to answer a question I had put to him... I remember a woman correcting the way I pronounced Holland Park.
There was also West London, passing by Chelsea fans as we walked to West Kensington to buy meats from the wholesale butcher, or groceries from the massive Tescos at West Cromwell, I remember once being really happy in the morning and jumping for joy and almost dislocating my bad knee, I remember ridiculously heavy backpacks, watching my white Volleys become greyer each time I trekked along the grey roads. I remember brushing teeth, cooking soups, making sandwiches, watching movies on an old couch with the lights off, snug under a blanket. I remember hangovers that involved lots of Tropical juice & instant noodles...friends coming for visits, polaroids, carrying friend's luggage up 3 flights of stairs, piano at 8.30am, looking out the window once and it was snowing and everything was slowly become whiter and whiter. I remember a tomato plant, old bed linen, a tiny tv, thick socks, knitting yarn, hot-water bottle, I remember Skyping family, and dreaming about home...
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