Day Nineteen: June 13, 2014. 8.15am. London in summer. It does sound like an oxymoron particularly for visiting friends. Summer? In London? But ask any Londoner and they’ll say a good summer’s day in the capital is like nowhere else on earth. Except Rio. But maybe we shouldn’t talk about Rio.
Temperature: It has been a week of sun kind of.
Greyscale: Do I detect a tinge of blue creeping into that grey? Is this what Mr Renzo Piano intended?
In E L James’s words: I get the feeling E L James doesn’t do summer. It’s too bright, too effervescent, too full of feeling. No season echoes her sentiments except, perhaps, the season of bonding (so to speak).