When I tell people that on visiting a new city, I try to make time to see a cemetery, they usually think I’m unspeakably morbid. In some ways, they’re right – I always have had leanings towards the shadowy in life and my obsession with all things Victorian by nature must include the macabre.
But it’s not only that – it’s also that cemeteries are indescribably beautiful and often immensely peaceful. They’re places of contemplation and escapes from the frantic city. They also fuel the imagination – there’s nothing quite like a name and some dates to send you down the route of wondering just what a life was made up of. In case you’re not convinced, here are some pictures from my walk last week in Kensal Green Cemetery, the oldest of the ‘Magnificent Seven’…
