So next time you’re in Kingston, give the Bentall Centre a second look. Ignore the pigeon’s judgment—he’s just jealous you have thumbs. Step inside, buy a mediocre cappuccino, and let the weirdness wash over you.
It’s not Paris. It’s not even Guildford. But it’s ours, and it’s gloriously, stubbornly, Kingston. And that, my friend, is worth a slow ride down that escalator.