Seagulls. I hated the sound of seagulls cawing. This time, though, was very different. I had heard nothing but the creaking of the hull against its supports, the roaring of the wind against the hull, and the boring discussions of the crew for almost two months. There were stops on the way of course, but they mattered little to me. For the entire time I had been waiting to see the city that mattered most in the Empire. To see the city where every dream existed and could be had if one was only smart and lucky enough. I knew what London looked like, what it smelled like, how it felt to be walking through its many streets. I knew all of these things since I had heard them all from people who had been there: politicians, merchants, and artists. London was my goal and she would deliver to me everything I had ever wanted. Of this, I was most certain.

The ship was nothing special, in fact it was probably the least special ship to dock in London. But there was room for everyone’s bags, some cargo, and at least sixty of us. That was enough when the entire ship looked as though it was held together with enough bodged workmanship and rust that it might collapse out of the sky in an instant, sending them all hurtling to their death. Still, there was an elegance to the sweeping steel superstructure that held the hull together and provided the interior space they had all come to know for many weeks. There was a charm to the now outdated opulence that tried to desperately cling to relevance. The seats were cramped, but I could walk around for hours just looking out from the observation deck. I was not, however, allowed to go into the First Class area, where I was certain only a few people were enjoying the same amount of space as dozens of us in Second Class.

To see London grow on the horizon, was the most magical feeling I had ever experienced. Standing in the Observation Deck with my face pressed firmly against the glass, the city seemed so small. It remained that way for so long, but the growth of the island and then the growth of this sprawling city was overwhelming. The cawing of the seagulls though, I could have done without. It was clear to me, who had been on board this ship for so long and witnessed so many dockings since leaving home, that we were in the preparation stage. By the end of the day, we would be arriving in London proper. If all went well, we would land just to the north of the Queen’s Palace in Green Park. The ability to arrive in such a central location is what makes airship travel the most divine thing. I could see no clouds on the horizon and no reason why we should be in an ill position to land there, but the murmurings of the crew caused me doubt.

What could I not see that they could, with their years of experience and hundreds of moorings? Why only with the docking in London was there now an unease amongst them? I shook my head, trying to clear it out. I was still excited and I wanted to hold on to that excitement and not let it be tempered. I could see the green growth of the grounds beneath me, the rising buildings surrounding the most important of areas, including Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, and Paddington station. Among all of these the teeming masses of people crowding the entire roadway system. As we gracefully lowered towards the docking station, my heart pounded faster and faster and my excitement grew. I could hear the blaringly loud alarms sounding as we lowered ever closer to the dock. The sense of wonder and enjoyment within the passenger section of the airship became palpable. It seemed both to take an impossibly long time to dock and begin disembarking and was also over before I had time to truly process it.

I gathered with everyone else in the small sectioned off corner of the aerodrome to gather our baggage. So many of these tall, straight backed people had a half-dozen or more suitcases and trunks. How could they have so much and have afforded so much valuable cargo space for the transportation of what must surely be only niceties? Such extravagance, such waste, and such indifference to the excess was a shock to me. This was not something I had seen at any of the cities we had stopped at along the way. It had never been a point of even the most upright and noble featured travellers to have so many bags brought with them to Berlin, Paris, or Amsterdam. These were all magnificent cities in their own right, but the disembarking guests did not hold a candle to this display of wealth. Surely, they must have some idea of their own privilege. But perhaps not, I thought as I shook my head. Perhaps travelling in such a fashion all the time had made it all feel mundane to them. I waited only a few minutes longer than these privileged few to gather my single bag. I swept it over my shoulders and tugged it on more tightly so that I could free my hands for whatever they may be needed. As soon as I was permitted to, I left the aerodrome control office and walked out onto the most magnificent avenue I had ever seen.

I walked so slowly down the avenue with Green Park disappearing to my left and St. James Park continuing on my right. I knew that I was headed towards Trafalgar Square, but I was no longer in a rush. It was beautiful here, how could anyone be displeased to be in London? I felt the calming influence of the serene space I was meandering down holding me back from the rush of excitement that tried to propel me faster. The birds chirping, the sun shining, the green space surrounding this marvellously kept cobblestone path that could only have led to an even more fantastic palace. As I walked on I could see the masses of people grow more densely, but all of them were so well dressed, so upright, and so self-assured that I was certain that London must be the place with the most aristocratic population and the most privileged people. I was so certain that Londoners had to be the wealthiest, best dressed, most successful, and most powerful people on the planet. I have never known myself to be wrong about that statement either. I walked with awe down the road, gawping at all that I could see. I knew they looked upon me with disdain and distaste and were likely thinking nasty thoughts about me, but I could not have cared any less. I, like they, was walking around this place in London. How different could we all be? I was a little startled when I heard the aerodrome alarms blaring again as the airship I had been on was taking off and another was maneuvering to take its place on the grassy flat. I stood and watched as the ship took flight, but I managed to pull my eyes away before witnessing the new ship dock.

Things changed markedly when I got to Trafalgar Square. That was when I knew just how important London was to London and Londoners. What a sight to behold. It was as if the world looked in and could see the prowess, the prestige, the confidence, and the threat of London at the core of the British Empire. I knew the power and reach of the Empire. I had travelled from one of the farthest holdings in the crown of Her Majesty’s domain. This was the site and seat of raw, visible strength and power. With Nelson’s Column, King George IV’s Statue, two more Army Generals in statue, the Plinth of Charles I, the statue of James II, and the incredible fountain in the centre of it all. I know listing these things to you makes little difference if you have not seen them too, but I assure you, I list them all to make clear the point that this was the clear idolization of might. Such a militaristic and imperial display I had never before seen. This was truly the seat of power in the world. And it emanated power, wealth, control, and above all else superiority. In me it brought forward a most basic and visceral fear that I might be trampled like an ant beneath the boot of this unfathomable power. It was breathtaking and for a while I could do nothing other than stare as I had done since I first saw London break over the horizon. At long last though I tore myself away from this magical space. It was always an effort to tear myself away from any place, but truly it was always necessary to rip myself away. 

I continued as best I could down what seemed to be a continuation of the main avenue. I later learned this was called the Mall, or Pall Mall, by others. On the other side of Trafalgar Square I found myself wandering down the Strand. It was a wholly different world once I passed from the dividing line of West and East. What was a world of greenery and singular power seemed transformed into power and wealth held by the few. The buildings were large and quite magnificent, but they paled again when I found myself happening upon Somerset House and King’s College. In such a place of power, wealth, excess, and military dominance, to see a place of the arts and learning take such a prominent place was mind boggling to me. How could this place be so far and above so much of the world? Was all of London this magnificent, this special, and this well rounded? My mind was so full of thoughts and visions, that I wandered for a time and I remember little of it. It was where I ended up that I remember.

I found myself passing the Temple Grounds and from the Strand and onto Fleet Street. Again, I tell you these details about the places and their names, not because I wish to brag or to create a map for you, but to ensure you understand the distance I had marched on my first day and just how distinct those places truly were. This was where I began to doubt what I had thought of London. I had been so very wrong. London was not a city of wealth and power. London was a city of dichotomy. Where in one place was concentrated so much power, wealth, military control, and learning, in the other was so much poverty, defeat, lawlessness, and the uneducated. Not that I judge anyone who lacks education. The system is designed to keep any who cannot pay exorbitant amounts of money for credentials well outside the systems of greater knowledge and learning. What hope do any who are born into this system and place have of ever reaching outside of it when all efforts are actively thwarted and they are pushed back? 

I was doing what I had been doing since I had arrived in London: wandering and looking at buildings and people that were so different than before. The buildings around me were no longer magnificent and built of marble, looking as though they had lasted since the times of Rome herself. Now they were built with simple wood and were no longer detached from each other, instead favouring larger and connected construction. As I walked further through the East of London, I also wandered deeper into the neighborhoods. This was to be one of the greatest learning moments of my life. I could still hear the occasional blaring of the alarms from the aerodrome, though they at long last sounded distant to me.

The sheer number of people, massed and moving in throngs as though schools of fish, was overwhelming. Schools of fish is not just a workable analogy for the people in the East End, the area smelled strongly of fish and sea salt. I stared at the badly stained buildings, covered in soot and grime from the barges slowly trundling up and down the Thames with their terrible coal fired boilers belching black smoke into the sky, only to be picked up by the tiniest of breezes off of the water and then rapidly deposited onto the houses and people that laboured hard for little money. I knew it was little money too, because I heard the bargaining, bartering, and begging of people with merchants, family, friends, and employers. Overhead I heard the buzzing of another airship, slowly leaving London. Where to, I knew not, but that the crew were surely pleased to be leaving was a certainty. London was not a city of dreams for those without means. I found myself, now, a part of that unenviable group that did not have means. I had spent almost everything I had to merely gain passage to this city.

I was stopped in my wandering down an alley by a woman. She was beautiful and clearly charming. She batted her eyes at me, inviting me into what appeared at first glance to be a nice tavern inn. I was not a fool, however, and I knew that once I entered the tavern, I could not leave without spending what little money I had or having it forcibly taken from me as I tried to leave.  I thought I was deftly sidestepping her when out of a small cut out in the building stepped a few bruisers. Clearly these three had been in more than a few fights and were well acquainted with fools like me who had wandered too far afield. Worse still, they were dressed alike and the middle one stood a little ahead of the others, indicating he was in fact in charge. I wondered if I could talk my way out of this, but he gave me no chance. He asked me why I would disrespect a lady and decline her invitation. No answer I could have given would have been a good one and I should have merely offered to compensate her and them for any insult I had done to them. That is what I should have done, not what I in fact did.

I was cowardly though and attempted turning around and running. I had barely moved my feet to turn tail and flee; I was lucky. Behind me were more bruisers, also clearly having been in many fights. These, though, were dressed differently than the three from the tavern. I had stumbled into disputed gang territory and managed to do so at the very moment of a determined and organized fight. I was grabbed by a newcomer and shoved out of the alley. The woman rushed into the tavern and slammed shut the door. I have no idea what occurred in that alley after I left, and I never wish to know either. I ran back to the West and towards what I hoped was safety. I planned on remaining in London for only a few days. What my future would hold after that, I could not have foreseen. But surely it was not to set foot in a world as dazzling and as disappointing as the London I had known in my mind and the London I had come to know through experience.