GraFton
Published Monday 26 January 2009
Forty-seven years since the Games, the remains of Parliament lie forlornly across the river. The shattered windows stare uncomprehendingly at the great London Eye now lying half-submerged in the Thames like some giant discarded bicycle wheel. It’s dusk, and London lies sullen before me. I breathe the smell of wood-smoke and coal and try and remember tourists, congestion and [...]
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