At the gate of Portcullis

The first thing I noticed about Westminster Abbey was the clock. The time is 5 minutes fast, and Big Ben – correct and famous for its reliability – sits right behind. The two clocks visible together, but not in synchronisation. The next thing I noticed was the tourists swarming around its ankles with their cameras. As I walked from the bus stop to the entrance of Portcullis House I wonder how many mantle pieces I will have walked across and how many photo albums I will appear in around the world.

Security men make me feel guilty, and then I always think I start looking suspicious. But I got a pass printed and tried to push my way through a revolving glass door before being told I had to wait to be met in reception. From the outside it is quite a dark looking building, but inside is a huge open hall with a glass roof and a walkway of trees. It’s really very peaceful. We walked the scenic route to the bar, through postcard-London, places I had only seen on the news. Seeing as the House of Commons is in recess we walked through that too, down the sword lines (I was listening to my guide). The whole place has a rather overwhelming sense of tradition. You almost smell it in the air and hear it in the echoes of the corridors.

Eventually we ended up in the Sports and Social Bar; carpeted, unglamorous and with an odor of stale beer it feels very like a long-established pub and was a comfortable place to sit and have a drink, and with everyone wearing their passes round their necks we could have VIP’s in the green room of concert.