And yet London is a solid city, in spite of the broken images it evokes in the mind of a wanderer like myself. There is a grandeur there, an impersonal power of endurance that is somehow comforting beneath the rot.
James Wright (1927-1980), A Wild Perfection: The Selected Letters of James Wright
CabbieBlog 
I think he is right to use the word’comforting’. You have to know London very well to find it so, but I used to feel that.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Yes, it takes years before you feel like a ‘Londoner’.
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