I have woken up encircled by scorpions, been to the odd literary party in the West End and even met royalty on occasion, but these are not my typical hunting grounds.
Most of the time I am searching for clues in unlikely, unadventurous and unglamorous places. This is where my paydirt is found; amongst all the other dirt.
Today I bring you a bottle-top and moist grime from London’s pavements.
Each of these icons of unglamour offer up a wayfinding story. I will leave you with the challenge of trying to see if you can read the stories in these photos. If not, don’t worry, you should be able to track me down. I will either be:
a) sipping champagne on a royal steamboat on the Upper Nile,
or
b) getting my nose damp somewhere in Sussex, whilst peering too intimately at lichens.
I’ll let you decide which is the more likely.