June 4, 2016 at 10:26 pm
Written by Gustavo Ferro
Translated by Flora Parrott

I walked to catch the 88 to Camden Town. The perspective from the top deck of the bus was very similar to the view I had seen on Google Street View. This is the second time that I have caught this bus.
My brother sent me a message: ‘Muhammed Ali has just passed away’
I had already seen that on instagram there were lots of homages to him.
From the bus I see two polystyrene cups sitting next to each other. There were cameras in both corners of the street.
I heard about an alarm that transmits a frequency that only young people can hear, the idea being to remove them from a place.
Now it ‘s 3:48 according to Big Ben. It’s much easier to photograph than to write about the surroundings. The images consume us, they are hypnotic. In the sky, are hundreds of flags of England, they reaffirm. They confirm to me where I am.
My brother said that he saw a mannequin taking a selfie in a shop window. The logic of profit is very clear in Oxford Circus.
The cranes are in the background, they point to the future. A group in a corner are demonstrating about something, it seems to be about China.
Buildings with mirrors.
I went through the street on foot; I went into an alley because of the sense of emptiness.
I got off the bus outside Mornington Crescent tube station. I have been here before in this corner on Google Maps when I was in Brazil.
I stopped to eat a kebab. I put my cell phone on low battery mode, at this time the shops are closed and the restaurants and pubs are open and little markets as well.
I chose a street by chance and turn to the left. I don’t want to see the map.
The highest construction is what you can see form the greatest distance.
The limits of the city are the limits of my body.
Now I cross through a pathway and reach the canal. I will continue along this way where there is less movement. I passed under the bridge with two guys, they tried to look in my eyes. One of them said ‘good morning’. The day light started to fade.
They grabbed a big stick from a tree and walked in my direction. My body became tense. He crossed, just passed me and nodded his head.
I heard steps from somebody running towards me from behind. He passed me and continued running.
I left by a pathway to the side of the canal. I walked through some trees, on my right I can hear cars and on the other side the movement of the water. I crossed under a bridge with a stamp of number 8 on a plaque.
An aeroplane cut the silence of the sky.
I don’t know where it will take me.
The canal is surrounded by railings backing on to private properties of big houses. The noise of the cars became more intense. The water reflects the lampposts.
I am walking in a calm rhythm.  Here is the end, an iron gate at the end of the pathway.
I went up a ramp and crossed the canal over a bridge and I heard the sound of the train.
I noticed the name of the boats, they are much more interesting than car number plates.
The names are:
De Trots Van Wyre
Many others without names.
And others that I can’t read, now I am in Lisson Grove street.