Radical Walks – Cornucopia City

Memory of a Demonstration

The burly man in an orange high-vis jacket stepped back from the opening door of the train. He made a gesture for me to board.‘After you’, I said, moving back a foot on the platform, ‘you’re the driver’.‘Is this train going up to London?’‘Yes, but I’m only going as far as Ashford’, he looked atContinue reading “Memory of a Demonstration”

Pimlico, revisited

I walked through Pimlico several times earlier this year. Before more war had started. There was the brink of a new war then in those nervous days in January and early February. Threats and violations. No one was sure that it would happen. When it did, I remember thinking, ‘so this is how it starts’.Continue reading “Pimlico, revisited”

Pimlico, Sunday morning

I made the journey again. It’s early Sunday morning and raining. The sea can hardly be seen but it lies there on the horizon under a grey brown squall. At the railway station the woman who sells the tickets is reading a book. She’s been up since 5am. ‘It’s ok’, she answers and makes aContinue reading “Pimlico, Sunday morning”

Pimlico, in Passing

I took the early train. The man at the station is friendly and we had a chat about the morning so far; although it was still early, a lot has happened. The train had few people on it but I had work to do, and in that state, one rarely notices. Thick fog everywhere, butContinue reading “Pimlico, in Passing”