.. the place I grew up.
Family.
Friends.
The stupidly narrow street that I learnt to reverse at speed in.
The city where I learnt to drive.
Vibrant.
Chaotic.
Rush hour.
Beautiful blossoms at spring time down this one road in my town.
The schools and universities I was educated in.
The jobs good and rubbish that I worked.
Enjoying the city parks over summer.
The population pulling a collective sickie on heatwave days and then talking about it on national TV while sunning themselves in the parks.
Greeting my neighbours that have also lived in the street for many years.
Seeing yuppies come and go onto the next up and arrived area.
Walking to dinner at my favourite restaurant.
Happy hour in the garden with family.
Pavements not recommended for barefeet.
Double decker buses full of either old people, drunk people or school kids.
Talented graffiti.
Bay windows.
Cycling at your own risk.
Driving with the window down and the music pumping.
Last orders at the bar.
A maze.
Black cabs.
Theatre, ballet, culture.
Sitting outside on the Southbank.
My roots. WICF.
