And of course, we had The Walker. You know the one. The person who walks in the middle of the pavement, four-abreast with their friends, moving at the speed of a sleepy sloth. They weren’t even shopping. They were just existing.
I almost tripped over a pram trying to dodge them. The mum gave me a look that said, “I see you. I feel your pain.” We shared a silent bond in that moment. We were both victims of the Oxford Street traffic jam of pedestrians.
The Smell Report: A Sensory Overload
Honestly, Oxford Street has layers of smell. You get the sweet, cloying perfume from a shop door. Then you get the scorched smell of a Pret a Manger baguette. Then, someone walks past wearing two different types of Lynx Africa.
Oxford Street closed to traffic for one day - as plan to pedestrianise
It’s a cocktail of chaos. By the end of the day, your nose is tired. It’s like a nasal workout. I don’t even smell things anymore; I just feel the vibe of the street. And the vibe today was… eucalyptus and regret.
