Sophie Austin This is a true story based on a night walk I did last year. I wanted to get to know a wilder London, and to me, that meant meeting the city in the darkness and to spend time, through the night getting to know the wild on its nocturnal patch. But I was fearful of the real and mythological threats to a woman walking alone. I sought out a like-minded chaperone. We walked through London until the sun came up. It was an transformative journey, but how I wish I had been brave enough to do it alone.
We meet underground, flickers of recognition by the lift as an online image morphs into reality and her red lip-sticked grin is smiling at me in the harsh light of Hampstead underground tube station.
No time for awkwardness, the lift carries us up, out of the earth, we pass, with breath held, through the ticket barrier threshold and into the night-time realm.
Swiftly leaving the stone and tarmac, we seek out the open heathland. Rising out of London Clay, this grassy, undulating area, once notorious for highway robbers and Vampires, now sits silently, an earthen giant meditating under the almost full Moon.
Moon shines so bright her rays create a magical halo in the icy darkness. Accompanying her, a gleaming dot of white silver light. Jupiter. The oldest planet in the Solar System. Two ancient celestial voyeurs watching us as we walk up the hill and deeper into the dark.
And then, there, below us, the City of London. It stretches its twinkling tentacles across the earth. The tallest towers thrust upwards, their tips illuminated with red lights, scarring the sky with a rash of manufactured brightness.
She gasps, but this is not the arousing vision I am seeking, I turn my back, eyes only for the dark.
This is my first date with the urban night. My red-lipped chaperone giggles coyly under the celestial gaze but, as my vision improves so does my longing to be alone with the nocturnal.
Next time I will dare to walk alone.