Tourist In My Own City

It’s that time of the year again, when the days are so short, I dread sleeping in for fear of missing daylight. The weather seems to be switching from grey, to short bursts of sunshine, to grey again, and just as my luck would have it, every day that I have to venture outside seems to be competing for England’s Greyest Day award, if such an award existed.

Despite this, I love London in the winter. You would think that the shorter days and the dull grey hue that the city seems to be painted in would be depressing, but the bright red London buses, post boxes and telephone booths add a pop of colour to the almost monochromatic city. Somehow, in the greyness, I notice colour more. From the terracotta bricks on the Westminster Cathedral in Victoria, to the cobalt arches in the Covent Garden market building, I can’t help but be awed by the artistry in old London architecture.

I have spent the last two months being a tourist in my own city. As much as I do not particularly like the atmosphere that overly touristy places seem to generate, there is a reason that visitors to this country congregate in hordes at these places. Simply put, the buildings deserve to be marvelled at. Every time I am near Westminster, I have to spend some time gazing at the Palace of Westminster because the size and detail in its creation never fail to amaze me. I have visited these landmarks for years, and yet I still get so much pleasure from seeing them again.

View my sketchbook to see my London sketches. I sketch plein air, weather permitting, as well as work from photographs.

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