Everything in London seemed extremely expensive—the cab from the train station, the rides at the carnival, the pub food. As though the pound and the dollar were the same. I wondered whether the city was now unlivable, out of reach, corrupted by Russian money, whatever. I decided I couldn’t tell. The answer was there before my eyes but all I could see were people going about their lives, more or less content. Institutions at work, road signs flashing and pointing, advertisements everywhere. A city. There were many tourists I suppose, but I couldn’t tell them from the locals. The city doesn’t care what we see in it, or don’t. Which means we can see whatever we like.