by Barney Ronay

How does it feel to be locked down in the largest urban centre in western Europe? Well, it certainly looks different from the skies. I live on the steepest hill in south London, a hill so steep that in pre-coronavirus times it would draw swarms of angry bankers on £4k touring bikes, clinging to its spine like thirsty wasps around a lime tree.

On day one of London lockdown the hill is empty, the city below unnaturally silent. From here you can see the London Eye, St Paul’s Cathedral, the grey outline of Muswell Hill to the north and the full range of postmodern skyscrapers in between. You can hear the hum of London’s traffic and the twin flightpaths of Heathrow and City airports.
UK goes into lockdown against coronavirus – photo essay
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Not today, though. Rarely can six million people have been this quiet on a Tuesday morning. From up here, London has entered standby mode. But look a little closer and the body is still breathing, the streets humming with an insubordinate inner life.

On Lordship Lane, East Dulwich, people are walking three abreast, carrying out essential trips to the deli and the cheese shop. Builders are refitting shop fronts. Essential group-jogging is taking place. Insanely – and how insane that this should seem insane – the chip shop with the tables is open for business.