London. It's dirty, it's noisy and it's packed as a sardine can but I love it. Where ever you go you feel a whiff of history in the air and know that the cobble stones have been trodden on by millions and millions of people through its glorious past. Even so it's a young city, vibrant with energy and promises of fulfilled dreams. That mix makes London that fascinating place that it is and a city I still, in spite of everything, call my home. This morning it dawned on me that London has been ruled by my ancestors. I haven't thought about it in that way before. They have just been a Willam here and a Henry there. In that sense of the word London is ... mine.
//P.
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