

Last time I was in London was for 3 months in 1973. I emerged from the the underground, along with hoards of Brits wearing bowler hats, swinging their umbrellas ahead of them in unison.

Yes, I was there, too
An’ you know what they said? Well, some of it was true!
London calling at the top of the dial
And after all this, won’t you give me a smile?
I never felt so much a’ like a’like a’like
— London’s Calling, The Clash