The hidden destiny

Framed by Parliament and a soft mist, it feels less like architecture and more like London’s crown, unmoving, iconic, quietly magnificent. I glanced left as I stepped onto Westminster Bridge toward Southbank.

Even blindfolded, if you’d erased Big Ben from view and only removed the covering once I was here, I’d know instantly I was in London. It’s not just the majestic red double-decker buses or the vintage phone booths, now mostly Instagram props, it’s the pulsing, technicolor soul of this sprawling, multicultural city that gives it away.