I've spent the last few days in London pondering the value and purpose of travel. I think, now having sleepily meditated on the subject on the bus to Stansted, that travel is much like looking for love. Inasmuch, I find myself reflecting on past travels and what I discovered in them, I remember now that I started my career of travel by approaching places which I knew nothing of, and therein had no preconceived notions of. I used to leave the travel guides closed until I arrived.
But yes, travel is much like searching for love; you never really know where or with whom you will find it, yet you search. So, I keep launching myself from town to town, country to country in the hopes that I will discover something I love, something that will change me, add to me.
London is not one of these places.