St. James’s Park

Date: August, 1973
Place: St. James’s Park, near Pall Mall, London
Modus operandi: Still awestruck with the sheer felicity of my Leica M3
Weather: One of those London summer days that says ‘Perfect’
Time: 11:00 am
Gear: Leica M3, 50mm Elmar
Medium: Kodak TriX
Me: Crikey!
My age: 21

When it comes to the great parks of the world, the list is not long.

Criteria? Mystery. Charm. Style. Class. Like a Rolls Royce. A pleasure to visit time and again.

On my short list, most are pretty old, and I suspect that’s no coincidence.

The first must, of course, be Central Park in New York. No finer tribute exists to the successful integration of city and country. A very special place. No New Yorker has to go far to go to the ‘country’.

Second is Parc Monceau in Paris. Statues. Perfect design. Gorgeous finish. Paris at its very best.

And a very close third, and easily the safest of all, is magnificent St. James’s Park in London. At its North East corner the tourism and grandeur of Trafalgar Square. Yes, the one with the National Gallery with Botticelli’s ‘Portrait of a Young Man’ which I have always wanted to pinch. To the East, Horse Guards Parade and the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (what?) and the Treasury. Well, if you are going to count other people’s money, you might as well do it with a nice view. And at the South West corner, Buckingham Palace. In other words, the locale is not too shabby.

As a young lad in London, just graduated from University College, London with an engineering degree (though, in truth, I spent most of my time in the British Museum and at the Courtauld Collection), and about to embark on a career in finance (have you checked English engineers’ salaries?), all seemed well with the world. Still enjoying my taxpayer subsidized Underground Pass, many a happy afternoon would find me in Mayfair and St. James’s Park. After all, I reasoned, if you want to get rich, it cannot hurt to hang out where the rich do.

And it was one of those idyllic days that caught me rambling through St. James’s Park attracted, like a bee to pollen, by the sound of the Guards’ marching band making its way down Pall Mall to Buckingham Palace.

Yet even my poor peripheral sight caught the Ladies on the Park Bench. And Old Jock, of course. Clearly I wasn’t really fast with that Leica yet, as three of the four spotted me.

Anyway, I hope you like this gentle appreciation of all that is good and great about England – its people, their eccentricity and this fabulous meeting place.