London never sleeps – a nightwalk

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The streetlights are dripping light on the dark grey damp pavements. They show the way from Hoxton to Shoreditch, and then to the City. And so it goes on and on. I have always been fascinated by the wakefulness of the city of London. During endless walks in search for an off-licence at 3am and pilgrimages on sleepless nights, it became clear that really, London never sleeps.

First, late at night it’s quiet: that’s how you know a bus is coming, long before you can even see it. The bus slows down towards the stop, where I’m standing. A guy rides it, and at a first glance he seems quite happy – in spite of the late hour. There is only a guy sitting in the bus, but he is so exclusively immersed into his smartphone, so much that it seems that he is struggling to keep being so unconsciously enchanted and detached from the world around that he doesn’t see me.

Two people is not a lot, but at least I know: so far, London is awake.

Streets are essentially deserted, but now and then I can still catch sight of someone who’s going home fast-paced after a very long day thinking about their bed, of a daring bicycle hurtling in the darkness, a shadow across the street that’s just minding its own business. Tonight is good. I see this people, I didn’t know them 5 minutes before but now I have seen them, cos we are all night wanderers tonight. Is 4am and I’m still learning.

In this lonesome back and forth I cross the road and turn to Old Street where, this Tuesday night, solely the distant clashing of beer bottles and the engines of the garbage truck have taken over the usual confused clamour. I am not alone on this quiet night. Again, London is still awake.

While I roam I stay at attention, because at night in London you will find people you would have never seen during the crowded, loud days. That will also reassure you of the fact that you’re not lost nor lonely – London is awake.

I see a homeless guy with his dog across the road, I see two young friends laughing of a resounding laugh about something I wish also I knew, a lady going somewhere clainging to her closed umbrella (even if today wasn’t rainy at all). I finally get to Brick Lane, at the Beigel Shop, where I was planning to go in the first place.

That place has something I can’t comprehend. I don’t understand if it’s the fact that the whole staff is always jauntily talking about something, or the bakery at the end of the shop that never stops baking, the diversity of visitors you can find, or the atmosphere of joyful drunk gluttony and anticipation of clubbers going for a refill after a night out, but that place makes you feel better. Undoubtedly because of the bagels, probably because of the cheesecake, maybe because it’s always open. 24/7, any day, any time. No matter what, during your sleepless nights – whether you make them such or not – the place is always there. London is definitely always awake.

However, is not the kind of wakefulness of Spanish islands where students try to forget the schoolyear in nonstop parties, nor necessarily the kind of dizzy, exciting wakefulness of big metropolis. London lies in a quiet wakefulness, on a silent guard.

There’s always a place open for you and waiting for you.

And you can never be alone nor have no place to go, as long as you’re in London: because the city is always awake, watching over you.