London, finally

I had been told about the light in England long before I came. Sally, our lovely English art director, said "You'll fly though a big grey cloud, and when you're on the ground you're underneath it the whole time". Sarah, who's filling in as editor for me - also English - told me she has to wear sunglasses year round when she plays tennis in NZ; the light is so much brighter than she was used to back home in the UK.

We did fly through a cloud coming in to Heathrow. But underneath, a benign sun shone, and we drove through a rather lovely soft evening into town. It's August, which is summer, but to me the light is more like spring or maybe autumn in New Zealand; those days when you're not really sure if eating outside is a good idea or not, and you'd better take a cardi.

I did wear a cardi - a wool one that I'd been wearing through winter in Auckland - for most of my first day in town. Sandy was tour leader, being familiar with London. He took me on a whistle-stop walking tour of the major monuments. We walked through Hyde Park, to Harrodd's food hall (number one stop). It was fascinating, expensive, touristy. Harvey Nichols I enjoyed more, especially the top floor food area. We found Dry River Sauvignon Blanc prominently displayed; so that's where it all goes! In the bespoke fruit and veg area we tasted English strawberries and unpasteurised parmigiano reggiano. In the shoe department (where I did not linger, except to caress a pair of Christian Louboutins and point out the red soles to an unimpressed Sandy) we watched a well-dressed matron try on a pair of leopard-skin pumps. "These are lovely", she said. "I can imagine putting on a summer skirt with these, and they'd be perfect". She clearly had some racy summer skirts at home.

Buckingham Palace was our next stop, of course. It snuck up on me through the park; I couldn't figure out what all the crowds were doing through the trees. As it happens, the guards were on their way for the trooping of the colour. We didn't linger among the hordes. A charming man in a navy suit offered to take a photo of the two of us. "I have hundreds of photographs at home of either my wife or myself", he said. "You need one of the two of you. Smile like you're very happy it's not raining". He was a good photographer, as it turned out, even waiting for people to get out of the frame before he took the shot.

Sandy is a funny tour guide; he knows his way around like a local, but when I ask him "What's that?" pointing at a palace (St James's, as it turned out), he just says "Someone lives there". Monuments commemorate "someone famous". On the other hand he remembers a bookshop selling nothing but fashion books and magazines from 10 years ago, where the flagship Topshop is, and a restaurant on Longacre Street in Covent Garden where he came on one of his first trips to London. It's still there; Le palais du jardin. We sat outside on the street and shared a bottle of chenin blanc and the stares of passers by. I ate sole with champagne sauce; Sandy had a superb duck with a fig and onion tart. A couple of fat cats (literally) in suits sat beside us and puffed obnoxiously on cigars and a pipe. Every now and then a cloud of smoke wafted over us. I'd forgotten how nice smokefree restaurants are!

We also managed to cover Parliament, Westminster, Big Ben, the Horse parade grounds and all manner of other amazingly historic and well-known buildings. The architecture is beautiful. Overall my impression was similar to the very first time I went to New York, over 10 years ago. London is foreign, but familiar at the same time. Spend a lifetime watching UK television shows, movies and reading books and that will happen. I feel quite comfortable here, although the sheer volume of people is a bit of a shock to the system.