I’ve had enough of city living. London has been my home on and off since I came to university in 1986. I’m tired of it. But there’s one bit I still love. That’s when I find myself right bang in the middle of town early in the morning. I feel the same way about all the other cities in which I ply my trade: Birmingham, Cardiff and Manchester, mainly. At about 6am, all cities have a similar character.
I write this in a cafe on Old Compton Street in Soho, in central London, at 6.30am. Here more than anywhere, it feels as though you’re in the eye of a storm. There aren’t many people about because the people, millions of them, are all jammed up on the roads and crammed on to public transport, getting in each other’s way, trying to get here. So for another hour or so we have it to ourselves. “We” being the early starters and a few late finishers.
