Have Legs, Will Walk

‘Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.’ – Thomas Merton.

I am in London for three nights to begin my goodbyes before I head off across the world to New Zealand. There is so much stuff to do in London that it is sometimes a bit mind-boggling as to where you should begin. I was mind-boggled this morning when I googled ‘free things to do in London’ (I am on a budget after all) and lists and lists of things appeared on the screen in front of me.

As I scrolled through, the world of possibilities utterly stumped me. There is an amazing amount of free or very cheap things to do in London every single day. So much so that you could be here a week, a month, six months, and still not have covered them all! It would seem…
So what did I choose to do? I ended up taking a well-trodden, favourite path of mine. Safe yes, boring definitely not. I took a bus to Trafalgar Square, walked up the Mall, cut across St James’ Park, walked down into Parliament Square, took a pit-stop at the Tesco Express beside Portcullis House and Big Ben to buy a ‘picnic’ and crossed Westminster Bridge to join the South Bank by the London Eye and County Hall. Here, I took up a seat on one of the low walls running around the Jubilee Gardens, where I proceeded to eat my rather shoddy lunch and people watch to my heart’s content.

The South Bank is my favourite part of London. The diversity of the people that tread that path never ceases to amaze me. I sat on my wall for an hour and hundreds, if not thousands, of people passed me by without so much as a second glance. There was the girl with the tattoos all up her legs, three small children, one with the coolest dinosaur t-shirt on, who jumped off the wall next to me and laughed hysterically while doing so, the couple who would not stop kissing under the London Eye, the business men and women who strode past, uninterested by their surroundings, intent on reaching their destinations as quickly as possible. Skaters, children, grandparents, Japanese, Chinese, German tourists… So many people.

This place is a tribute to the arts. As you stroll along, with the Thames rolling past you to one side, it becomes apparent that there is art everywhere you care to look. A magician with some really wonderful patter, performing tricks for money. Charlotte, the busking girl, who had a fantastic singing voice but a talking voice so sugary, it set your teeth on edge. The living statues, one green and the other gold, both of whom left their plinths at some point during my time on the wall. The green one strode off, perhaps to find a toilet. The gold one finished her stint entirely and transformed back into a normal human being, which takes away the magic somewhat. One minute, she’s an ethereal shining girl, the next, so ordinary she blends into the crowds in seconds and is lost.

You come to the Southbank Centre, currently done up in a riot of multi-colours for some event. The art is developing now, going beyond people and their performances. There are the skaters, tucked away in their park in the underbelly of the Southbank Centre. Opposite this, a giant sandpit has been erected, with children building castles happily. I paused again to watch the skaters and some graffiti artists adorning the walls of the park with quick, sure sprays of paint. The walls are a riot of colour, the skaters zip amongst them, cool as can be.

With every step you take, you experience something new. The art surrounding you includes the people, the music, the food, the art, the sports, the natural world, the manmade world. Everything is fluid, never there long, blink and you miss it. Everything is worth pausing for, stopping longer, soaking it all up. Nothing should be wasted. I pass a bright pink double decker bus parked up, selling frozen yoghurt. Within another few steps, I am amongst the book stalls of the Southbank Book Market, under Waterloo Bridge.

Above: Even this bench is arty!! I had to ask a man to move so that I could take a photo – I don’t think he was too happy about it!

Around the next corner, new delights await. A man creating art in the sand at low tide. His signs invite you to aim a coin at the small containers he had spread out and see if you can get it in first time – an offer too tempting to pass up. I throw fifty pence, it lands noiselessly on the sand inches from a dish. Someone next to me makes a hit and the man glances up and thanks them with an Italian accent.

It is quieter now on the Southbank. The tourists are thinning out and the tapestry is changing. The art is giving way to history, and the easy come, easy go attitude earlier on is gone. Things feel more permanent now – the Oxo Tower, the piers that jut out into the Thames, the bridges. I pass under Blackfriars Bridge, with its impressive black steelwork. It appears unshakeable, as though nothing in the world could ever destroy it.

The Tate Modern is another very permanent structure. I step in to wonder at the cavernous entrance hall, then move on quickly. Directly opposite, across the river, St Pauls Cathedral is set magnificently into the skyline, with the Walkie Talkie further downstream, amongst other glass skyscrapers. The Millennium Bridge looks flimsy next to the hulking form of Blackfriars Bridge. The people appear as mere ants scurrying across it.

Finally, history fully takes over as I arrive at the Globe Theatre. Beyond that, by now footsore and contemplating a coffee and a rest, I pass the ruins of Winchester Palace, a replica of the Golden Hind (the ship captained by Sir Francis Drake) and Southwark Cathedral in quick succession as my walk takes me away from the water and plunges me back onto the streets of London. I pass under London Bridge and, as I make my way towards the tube station, cannot help but see the Shard looming over the locale. It seems a fitting end to my artistic and historic journey. It is the largest piece of artwork London has to offer, and it will go down in the history books as the tallest building in the capital. That is, until someone builds one higher!!

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