22nd March

The Obsessive Diary

Walking New York has taught me to walk my own city in a different way. To look, to see through the eyes of a visitor. I traced my route before I set off yesterday, I wouldn’t do all of it on foot but I would from London Bridge to St John’s Wood because I had time and I like walking in London. I like the faces, I like the sights, I love the snippets of conversation as I pass. That poet is here, the one who writes London isn’t the same without you under our feet. I never noticed before. I went off piste continually - I can do that here. Here I am not afraid. I know the city so well. I took a right when I saw the tower of Tate Modern, I rang Suzy as I crossed the river, we spoke all the way through Clerkenwell. At Grays Inn I swerved into a courtyard and got lost in the ancient tangle of alleys to pace amongst lawyers, a woman in power boots who wasn’t taking any nonsense led the way. She was young. She still had a fight on her hands. At Euston I considered walking the canal but instead took the park, two old men faced off over a phone call - one stopping to answer, the other who’d been going at pace had to veer and halt almost in mid air, a comical freeze, we locked eyes, I laughed, he held it with perfect timing then moved on.