Igor Clark

Squealed, diverted, round the corner in front of me, chock-full of policemen and bollards.

Wilson Street, London EC2M

Last thing on a Sunday night, standing in the rain on Bishopsgate, answering tourists' geography questions. Last thing I'd want to be doing.

Bishopsgate, London EC2

Paused on the kerb outside the Barbican; something interestingly Orwellian about the placement. I was visiting a friend who lives high atop one of the “houses” in the Barbican centre, and the view from the window is of a wonderful planned city-scape: a neatly-designed garden area surrounded by structured walkways alternately skewering and straddling the cultural centre, living spaces and everything required by a modern lifestyle, as envisioned during the Years of Concrete. A patchwork for uniform existence, individual units subsumed into the hive for their own benefit through the general Utility. Seems only right that this chap should be keeping an eye on them.

Golden Lane, Barbican, London EC1Y