Here is some of my experience in London.
This trip became the second loneliest time I’ve ever felt in life yet there were some very kind points. I had no idea it would turn out so glitchy (in video and IRL). My hand held my phone and I occasionally looked at it just to make sure it was recording. What you’re missing out on is a lot of accidental footage of people’s butts.
I am repressed but I am remarkably dressed, that’s all I need.
Looking forward to my haircut.
Among [Henry] Mayhew’s more memorable meetings were encounters with the “bone grubber,” the “Hindoo tract seller,” an eight-year-old girl watercress-seller and the “pure finder,” whose surprisingly sought-after job was picking up dog mess and selling it to tanners, who then used it to cure leather. None of his subjects, though, aroused more fascination—or greater disgust—among his readers than the men who made it their living by forcing entry into London’s sewers at low tide and wandering through them, sometimes for miles, searching out and collecting the miscellaneous scraps washed down from the streets above: bones, fragments of rope, miscellaneous bits of metal, silver cutlery and—if they were lucky—coins dropped in the streets above and swept into the gutters. - Continue reading at Smithsonian.com.
Photo: Public Domain
Ed note: The long and winding history of the Thames river.