London. Home to significantly more people than you could ever count, and the largest urban zone in Europe. It’s quite likely that if you can survive in London, you can survive anywhere that has oxygen and water. Possibly even Slough.
Very few people are born within the traditional dinging distance of the famous Bow Bells. Even if they appointed Motorhead as campanologists-in-chief at St Mary-le-Bow Church to extend the aural catchment area, you’d probably only end up with enough self-declared pearly kings and queens to count on the remaining fingers of a man who still faints at the mention of agricultural machinery. Let’s face it, the population of London is either spontaneously generating like mushrooms in a Victorian manure pile or they come from the mythical lands of Elsewhere. Most of the remaining dwindling population of native Londoners have been caught in recent years by strategically placed Eel and Pie shops. Once trapped, they are taken away and released back into the safe environment known as Walford. It’s genuinely better that way.
No, most Londoner’s come from Elsewhere.
