Snapshot - Blackfriars Bridge

It's Thursday evening, and I come right off Fleet Street and into the bridge approach. This cold snap hasn't left us yet, but I'm rugged up well enough. I get to the big intersection just before the bridge and a cyclist on the footpath approaches and passes me, travelling not much faster than walking speed. I firstly notice first his intent gaze, and secondly the roll of carpet sitting on his right shoulder, measuring at least five metres long! Had to do the double take on that one!
The breeze comes up and I'm at the river....in what's the usual case for me regarding this town, while I don't actually like the river, I do like being at the river, as the whole place opens up for a while. The panorama from the bridge is quite an awe-inspiring sight as I begin to cross, as from that view one can see how the city's history is openly reflected in it's buildings. I guess that's like any major city I suppose, but for this town it's a strikingly available cross-section.
Over my left shoulder is St Pauls, still just as amazing every time I see it, a timeless landmark of a city levelled by fire and flood, and also of it's architect Christopher Wren and his boys, enthralled in their 17th century Masonic conspiracy to transform the place into the new Jerusalem of the West. Just behind, the gloomy fingers of the Barbican, an incredible cultural centre, point defiantly into the grey green glow of the night sky. A little further along is St Mary's Axe, infamously known to Londoners as 'The Gherkin', a gleaming geometric wonder of upwardly sprialling steel and blue glass, a rocket ship that could take off at any second.
One's eyes sweep past the old City and across in the distance to Canary Wharf, the silvery eastern outpost of rampant commercialism, banking, finance, big business. Thoughts turn to a particular afternoon with D-Funk, sitting at the All Bar One on the other side of the square from the tube station, surrounded by hundreds of the work crowd, a sea of black and grey, all strapped in for the Thursday night booze up. Two musicians trapped in a horrible Orwellian nightmare of clocks and that big screen spewing out share prices, stock market figures, other such useless information - hemmed in on all sides by those buildings clustered in on each other, strangely fragile looking, like a big gust of wind could just blow them all away....so inhuman, so impersonal....
Couldn't help but look back at that dark area, between Canary Wharf and the City, to the area known as Tower Hamlets, one of the poorest areas of England sandwiched between historical glory and big business. Reminded me of the time I worked there, during my Temping Tour of Greater London, and a certain manic morning in July, just when I thought things couldn't get worse. Determined to get to my job, I walked for three hours past closed Tube stations and helicopters and thousands of confused people on the streets and endless sirens, and strangely never thought to ask anyone what was going on. And then, the next morning on the Tube, no-one, like Day of the Triffids or something.
Coming back round to Southbank ahead of me, my gaze crosses the bridge in front of me and to the right, and there's Oxo Tower, bastion of middle class consumer culture. There's a certain reminiscent charm in the Art Deco period - fronting the Thames, this particular building rather resembles a big white cake, complete with purple coloured icing (the lighting atop the restaurant and function centre) and one big fat candle with large red neon letters.
I can't help but smile. There's standing proof of how through a load of determination, a bit of luck and being a nice guy, things did turn around. My full time in the office world did wrap up, the gigs did come in, as well as the teaching....
The river winds back and the various bridges and railway stations pop up, with the tower of Westminster off in the distance, and I continue down into the South bank.
Is this a nice place? An inviting place? From this particular inhabitant, having lived here just over a year now, that's a categorical no on both counts. But I won't deny for a second that this is an incredible, awe-inspiring place that entirely captures one's focus and attention....