Victoria Station

It's very dull here at 1737 Monday afternoon at Victoria Station. Even with my phone to keep me going, I'm still yawning so much that I have had to take my face mask off.

Not so far from where I used to sit, at about the same time of day, taking a little something outside Wetherspoons while watching all the busy people rush about below. I may even have indulged in the odd puff. A few years ago now.

And even more years ago, when I first knew the Station, I remember when ladies of the night, rather smartly dressed, used to hang around the exit to Buckingham Palace Road. A time when the surrounding area contained lots of small and usually seedy hotels - as well as the much grander looking station hotel on the corner of Buckingham Palace Road and Terminus Place - although not nearly as grand upstairs as you might have thought from downstairs. A time when the rather expensive looking dress shop on the corner of Ebury Street and Eccleston Street used to be a common or garden stationer and tobacconist - and  where the lady inside had properly London accents. Ladies of the night also long gone, at least from that particular spot.

Snap from a correspondent. A long time since I was in London myself.