There is no lens wide enough and no string of eloquence capable of transferring the scenic and emotional experience to one who has not visited the United Kingdom.
We stayed in the busiest street of Liverpool and woke to the sound of buses and the sight of crowds waltzing in their fluffy coats and thick scarves. The most peculiar part of the entire trip was how seamless it felt immersing myself in the culture. There is something so enriching and creatively provocative about the history of the buildings that is both fascinating and, to some extent, romantic. Funnily enough, it wasn’t the likes of the iconic Big Ben, London Eye, or Tower Bridge, that stood out to me. Much to the contrary, the most profoundly captivating parts of the entire trip were my glimpses of quiet alleyways, little boutiques, the movements of locals and how they always seemed to have something more important to attend to, the brutal chill, the bizarre temperature change when stepping out of a department store, the tight-packed subways during rush hour, and even the way light danced so differently to our harsh Australian sun and ever so subtly caressed the grand yet intricate architecture.