HEN you make that trip to Europe which
)l you’ve promised yourself, of course you’ll
see London. No doubt you’ve read a
good deal about it, but you might like a
hint or two on some of the out-of-the-
way bits, and how to get into the every-
day London of the Londoners.

You’ll find there a lot of things you’ll admire,
and a lot of things you’ll think are done better in
America. Londoners won’t mind your criticism.
You can be as free as you like—but listen . . .
whatever you tell Londoners, don’t for pity’s sake
tell them their police are wonderful. They’ve been
hearing that the last fifteen years from every film-
queen. And they knew it before that.

Well now, suppose you’ve got to London, and
have dodged the police question. You’ll see the
high-spots, of course—Westminster Abbey; St.
Paul’s Cathedral; The Tower of London; The
Changing of the Guard at St. James’ Palace; and
Piccadilly Circus and Regent Street; and perhaps
the National Gallery.

But so many Americans, when they’ve done
this, consider that they’re through with London.
Indeed they’re not. You haven’t even flicked the
surface of it. These things should certainly be
seen but to get near to London you must sort
them up with other and everyday things.

The best way to see any city is to go out each
day, and just wander, or sit around for a spell
in cafes or in parks. Give yourself what Dickens
called “the key of the street,” and take the luck
of the next turning. In that way you’ll come

 

 

 

 

REALLY SEEING
LONDON

BIG BEN AND PARLIAMENT SQUARE, LONDON

The clock tower of:the Houses of Parliament from
Parliament Square. At night when the House is sit-
ting, a light is shown in the lantern; in the daytime
a flag flies from the Victoria Tower.

across all sorts of little things—things that light
up the city for you—that you wouldn’t have
thought of looking for, or even have heard about.
You see, London was never really “built,” it’s just
grown, haphazard, so that it’s all nooks and corners
and twists and turns. It’s in those nooks and
corners that you’re more like to find the thing that
will give London a meaning for you.

Don’t try to dash around and see twenty things
in one day. London isn’t the kind of city for dash-
ing around, and it doesn’t give much of itself to
those who dash through it. Its spirit is full and
strong, rather than brilliant, and its pace is slower
than that of the Latin cities. If the tone of some
Latin cities suggests a guitar, the tone of London
suggests a ’cello. You need to get in tune with that
before London will share its secrets with you.

There’s something in London for everybody.
Whatever your tastes and habits, London has some
place in which you can indulge them and develop
them. If you like whoopee, you can get plenty.
And you can be as quiet as you please. In one or
two spots of St. James” Park and of Kensington
Gardens, you can hear scarcely anything of Lon-
don, and get only distant views of it. And in the
lawyers” quarters—in the cloisters of the Temple,
Lincoln’s Inn, and Gray’s Inn, all is peace and
green trees.

Try, if you can, to meet people of all sorts and
professions. If you carry introductions, this should
be easy. If you don’t—well, it’s not easy to get
Englishmen to talk to strangers. Indeed, they’re

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