This should have gone out Sunday night, maybe Monday morning, but for the fact that this whole place is a dearth of nothingness when it comes to GPRS signal. How do you wrap a whole campus in a mostly-functioning faraday cage?
The underground's as hot as Marienplatz in summer, offensive heat that leaves everyone drenched with sweat. Even the London roads are hot, sun melting the first layer of tarmac. Kings Cross was evacuated, a bomb threat as this week's suspicious package was found outside. Same as normal, evacuate the station and get the bomb squad to blow it up someplace safe. So I hit the Euston road, down towards another station and a connection. All of this reminds me of why I really hate London. Too much noise and too many foreigners. I heard a grand total of three English voices in the whole city, the rest an amalgam of faces and accents from all over the world.
Not that Brighton is any better. I'm getting the feeling that the South is indeed run by foreigners, for foreigners and the only British people here are greying tourists or people stuck in dead jobs who can't leave. Take away the throngs of people and the foreigners and it's rather like Hull.
One distinctive thing about this place is the geography. Everything's up or down a hill, like the city's built on a set of spline curves. Not the slightly non-Euclidean geography of Edinburgh, the streets spelling out ancient 4-dimensional runes as they cross each other at varying heights, but rolling curves like everyone and his grandad expects a seaside town to be. Archetype of a place, ingrained deep into the vertical curves of the streets.
The only reason I've had chance to make such observations is that my back's been out and I've had the time to think about this kind of thing. Bah.
: And I use that word deliberately