In traveling to London there is perhaps that expectation of going back in time, just a little bit, just for a moment. It’s somewhat humbling to gaze upon the Rosetta Stone, or even the institution in which it sits, or visit the Tower of London, and then step back and recognize these have existed longer than your country. You can further contemplate this concept of time at the Greenwich Observatory, as you step on the Prime Meridian and see for yourself some of the apparatuses that have been used to measure and define moments in a specific history (whose history is a debate for another, ahem, time).
Wandering the side streets, touring the city’s famous structures, dropping in to the centuries-old pubs for the Sunday roast; it feels stuck in time until you turn another corner and are once again confronted with the modernity of an ever-changing London. Forward, back, present. London is all at once, a palimpsest of lives lived, never ceasing, never stopping.