You can see them heading for the benches with their sandwiches, lingering over lattes...longing for a few moments` peace and respite from office pressures, for some thinking time alone. There are lunchtime lovers, too; touching, whispering; earnest and certain that their city bench, for just a few moments, makes them invisible. It`s their space; their little `table for two` in the cosiest spot any maitre d`could muster.
If it`s you on the bench, you can just watch the world go by. I still try and stop in Trafalgar Square en route to Charing Cross; watching tourists getting ticked off for trying to tame the lions, or leaning too close to the still-icy fountain water on scorching summer days. I remember standing, as a four year old, covered with pigeons; their tiny claws digging into my head; beaks pecking at the bought seed in my hand-- I didn`t really enjoy it, but mum had paid for the stuff from the bloke on the corner-- it`s what you did on a day out. In New York, we sat munching hot dogs on a bench in Central Park, feeling as much a part of the Big Apple as Carrie; then joined the throngs in Times Square, watching the snaking queues at the ticket booths; each tourist already part of their own Broadway show.
So that`s it really. You can`t beat watching the world go by from a well placed bench and wondering about all the secrets it keeps. And it doesn`t cost a dime.
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