Crowded pavements

For the benefit of readers who don't know this place, the sprawling megalopolis of London contains something called the "the City of London". This is a small area of about a square mile vaguely near the middle of everthing. It's the withered kernel of the original London. It used to be bounded by the city wall, and as you might imagine is quite well stocked with quaint historical relics.

But as London grew, the City turned into a financial district. Nowadays it's crowded with nasty glass towers full of people in suits who swarm in during the day, make money, eat sandwiches in a highly competitive fashion (usually at their desks), make more money, then swarm out again at night, leaving the streets eerily deserted.

As the City evolved into the glittering citadel of greed, the centre of life in London moved steadily westwards to a more friendly place called the "West End". This is the real heart of London for most people. It's where you'll find huge numbers of shops, theatres and other interesting stuff. It's usually the first place all the tourists head when they fall off the plane.

And this, dear reader, is where I work. Usually it's very nice. I'd much rather work here than in that horrendous dead zone further east. I laboured there for six months once, and although the money was good it wasn't a pleasant experience. The City is just a monstrous machine for extracting the juices from people.

No, I'm very grateful to be working in this part of town. Normally it's a fascinating place to be. But at Christmas! The whole place is suddenly clogged up with a completely impenetrable mass of humanity. Oxford Street, the epicentre of shopping, is overrun at every hour of the day by a seemingly infinite herd charging from shop to shop clutching bags. Once the sun's gone down (about 3 p.m.) it seems like you're stuck in some hellish region of lost souls doomed forever to barge blindly against each other.

I'm scared to go out the door!