Touch down. Crisp air and grey smudged skies.
The streets of London are crowded. People swarming arm to arm in built-up city traffic like a tribe of ants.
The buildings are grand and seeping with years of life. Crimson stained brick homes, rainbow-drenched Notting Hill condos and history-book cityscape masterpieces. The place will be sure to leave you with a new found love for architecture after getting shoulder to shoulder with the metro’s magnificent visual delights.
It would be polite to give the architects a slap on the back, but rude not to give a round of applause to mother nature. The greenest of green parks pepper London Town to promise a decadent treat for all. Picnic rugs sprawl at all corners of turf, readers devour stories amongst the damp grass, children merrily giggle at flightless birds in ponds, and lone artists paint the world, eyes flickering between swaying trees, rippling waters and a half-finished canvas.
Vintage and Vinyl stores litter the place and gems you never knew you were looking for, appear in the bags of avid shoppers who are forgettable of their budgets.
Festivals are kind of a must-do when in a foreign land so READING FEST opted as the perfect ambition for a couple of travelling girls.
Uniformed rows of tents, head-aching early morning pregames, intoxicated dance moves and a dream-worthy lineup of artists. Cue some shots taken from too many rolls of film.