London: Beauty and Ugliness

A while ago I said I would start a series on my ponderings about London based on my experiences of living there. This was instantly one of the topics I wanted to talk about.

While I was on the tube a month ago, crushed against tourists and sweating because I had put on that layer that was one too many for such a cramped journey, a German lady who my mum, sister and I had got chatting to (probably to ease the awkwardness of us being squashed together) made the remark: "London is such a beautiful city." 

And it is, in many respects. Culturally rich, beautifully lit, preserving historic landmarks such as the Tower of London yet towering them and swallowing them up with modern new-builds such as the Gherkin which make up London's infamous skyline, full of history from East to West, peppered with wide open spaces such as Hyde or Richmond park which take you away from the concrete jungle, with almost too many ways of travelling to and fro.

Yet there is something about London which I have come to despise. It is so clean, neat, tidy, tourist-friendly, that it loses its grit. The sirens that stop me from sleeping at night are not to be celebrated, nor are the rushes of traffic that stop me from hearing the echo of my own footsteps that for some reason gives me so much joy. Tower Bridge has all its leaves swept away throughout the day, yet fails to deal with the homeless man that sits on the north end by the stairs every single day. The leaves don't make Tower Bridge any uglier or any less attractive - to be honest, after nearly three months I would love to be able to step on a crunchy leaf on my commute to work: a simple pleasure which I took for granted in my many school nights walking back from the bus stop. Why do they have to be swept away? London, I cry, you are prioritising all wrong!

Perhaps the lady on the tube was so enthused at the bright lights of London that she was almost sweet-talked out of her discomfort on one of my least favourite modes of transport. I have come to know better. I still like to walk around London, don't get me wrong: after that tube ride I walked round the Southbank through to Westminster and now possess many a photograph of the Houses of Parliament from various angles. It was pleasant. Yet I awoke the following Monday and once again went to East London and experienced the London that no tourist really wishes to see, the London that the politicians really don't want to promote or focus on. 

It's the London where dirt gets on your face and you are greeted by a man at his door with a coffee cup that is black on the inside, the stench of his house almost blowing you off his doorstep. A London that not many seem to really care about or even want to go near. If London is only about the lights and the attractions, with endless money spent on it being clean and more beautiful, it loses all substance and abandons any trace of human day-to-day existence.

And to me, that makes London (beyond the Instagram filters) pretty ugly.