FIRST VISIT LONDON, WINTER 2005
-From the air, the Mongolian landscape can only be described as raw. Low ridges look braided, like an Irish fisherman's sweater.
-On the bus, the song Henry the Eighth in my ears. As soon as my feet hit pavement, I blare London Calling.
-Sitting before St Martin-in-the-Fields, the sound of Mozart blending with traffic.
-Playing dead poet hopscotch in Westminster Abbey. The graves of lesser poets are less polished. Other tombstones like graham crackers. One reads, "Be of one mind. Go in peace." In that spirit, someone leads a prayer for peace in Iraq.
-Battersea Bridge people-watching; androgynous Euros, voices swapping consonants, buff camouflaged guy walking terrier, straight-laced looking girls with pierced noses.
-The Tube; quiet locals, noisy tourists; sitting shelf at end of carriage; hot girl with an eye-patch; punk with a Scissor Sisters T-shirt reading Virginia Woolf.
On the turntable: Tino, "Tino's Breaks, Volume 5"
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