as usual i arrive early and haul my suitcase across the city on the tube, london is cold, grey and wet. already i feel depressed and out of place. all i can think about is the ocean back home, terrible beach where i miss my morning surfs, the smell of good coffee afterwards, and the sun on my face. anyways here i am, gotta make the most of it i guess. when i get to mums everyone is sick, mum, my brother and the people that seem to come and go. jake is fit as a fiddle, he's off to italy for work for a few days but returns in a few days but before he leaves we head into london where i stock up on rare books and stuff at my fave places. london seems nuts, from now on i will refer to it as londonistan, seeing as though the islamic population outnumbers everything else.  it's packed with tourists, americans, italians, spanish, it really is quite the tourist city. occasionally i hear someone speaking in english.
i can't help than notice a lot of the pubs seem to be shut down, that's a step in the right direction but it takes away the very fabric of the london i know. there are some pubs open, very expensive and crowded, far to loud for me although i do occasionally stop for a guinness on doctor's orders.
my brother invites me to his workspace, a huge big tower made from brick and glass in algate. from up there i can see east london, the old architecture looks amazing, the new not so much. generic buildings, even the telephone shaped one looks ugly and lacks imagination, the shard is modern and looks good but belongs in dubui, the pickle is wonderful but belongs in dallas. 
on the street it's bangldesh. 
we walk to (whitechapel) london hospital where i was born. the original building still stands although it resembles a victorian insane asylum, with it's gothic turrets and gargoyles. ancient brick crumbles and faded with age. this whole building has closed down and they relocated now, down the road stands the new london hospital, it's ugly and has a generic failing nhs sort of feel.
we wander along to my first home, 'zion house' in sidney street, the roads are tiny and the apartments are equally small. i can't believe this area, when i was born this was considered the biggest slum in europe but now it's a mini bangladesh a few minutes walk from the city. londons ever expanding boundaries kinda started here, in the background of these council homes stands the shard and the new skyscrapers, you can even see the eye.
along the main road of whitechapel are the ruins of the white chapel of saint mary matfelon, now just a few white stones. as i stand staring at them a black dude with a headscarf wrapped around his head, wearing torn plastic globves comes over to shake my hands. he says, hello and tells my brother about me. it's weird, this sort of thing happens quite often, random strangers come up and start saying to whomever i am with, 'this guy is very amazing, he's special, he's important, he's an angel, a legend,' etc.
not only is it embarrassing for me, but whomever i am with is left bewildered and lost for words, as is my brother whom looks nervous as the guy shakes my hand and walks off fulfilled.
we wander around, pop into 'the ten bells' a famous haunt for east london prostitutes in the olde days, in fact jack the rippers victims had their last ever drinks there. now it's filled with yuppies and advertising people.
one fine day i walk through hamstead with jake, he shows me a new bookshop which i really like. it's all arranged in geographical terms. in hampstead i feel more relaxed and in an environment i can relate two. it was a big haunt for me as a young teen and now jake lives there. sunday afternoon it's heaving, everything is open and cafes and pubs are packed. 

the transport system has declined a lot in the year since i was here last, often trains don't run, buses are unmarked and the drivers don't really speak to the public so they are no help. it's all very weird. jake and i made the mistake of catching a train via wembley when a soccer match was on, it was squished up to the max. very uncomfortable and unhealthy.