‘At night the real city is laid bare, seemingly forgotten and empty’
San Francisco after midnight is a night stroller’s dream. I lived there for 25 years and would often take a short nap and go out at midnight to enjoy a sleeping city filled with atmosphere, deserted spaces, panoramic vistas, foggy and forlorn images of trees and distant expanse of water. Time was different at night in sleeping San Francisco.
The city was so crowded during the day I could not enjoy it, I had no sense of presence. At night the real city is laid bare, seemingly forgotten and empty, even while occupying the same physical space of the daytime city. I came to think of the city after midnight as “night city” with its own culture and realities. I found it inviting. (Anonymous)
‘Those magical walks home were some of my happiest times’
I can remember some magical late night London walks home from parties in the mid-1970s – a time of hot summers and low rainfall. These were often out of necessity as late night transport was pretty much non-existent at the time, and I was young and too impoverished to pay for a taxi or minicab. I lived off Ladbroke Grove and these walks would usually take me through the squares of Bayswater or Holland Park – the trees luminescent in the streetlights or along the edge of Hyde Park with the dew starting to fall. These walks stay with me today – probably some of my happiest times ever. (montesdeoca)
‘The city gradually reveals itself at night’
It’s a wonderful sensation, going out in the dark, and having the city gradually reveal itself. I’ve enjoyed it most in places which are crowded during the day; Venice, for example, is magical before dawn. (SuperbMeteor)
‘Walking through Athens at night is very peaceful’
I walk miles in Athens at night and love it. Especially around the Acropolis, through Plaka and Thissio. There is a dirt track between the two agoras which hardly anyone uses at night. It’s very peaceful, and Athens is a very safe city. Walking in the daytime here can be a nightmare. I still love this city though, and walking through it at night is one of my favourite pastimes – especially in winter when the streets are so very quiet. (David Coxon)
‘I am something of an insomniac … I just embrace it’
The best part of exploring a city at night is the slight sense of being in an alternate world. The night smells different. You can sometimes hear underground streams flowing. It’s nice to be rewarded with the discovery of new places even if it’s only an all-night cafe. Wildlife is everywhere, particularly foxes but also urban owls, badgers and deer. I am something of an insomniac. My sleep pattern is very disrupted but I just embrace it. (Anonymous)
‘I’d never run the risk of going for a walk alone at night’
I would love to go running at night, but as a woman I’d never run the risk of going for a walk or run alone at night because I’ve just been always taught to believe I must always be vigilant and not put myself in danger. If I did go for a walk at night and was attacked, I fear the reaction from others would be that I shouldn’t have been walking alone in the first place. (koelner)
‘Night walks are an excellent break from our increasingly digital lives’
When I first moved to London, I worked as a bartender in Shoreditch, usually until 1 or 3am. The noise left my veins tingling, my head buzzing for hours afterwards. Sober, the night bus felt like a continuation of the night shift, a busman’s holiday full of late night drinkers and cans of lager. So, although it took almost an hour, I often walked home to unwind from the buzz of London’s nightlife – to decompress, to breathe.
Walking from Shoreditch to Upper Clapton, I discovered a different side to my new city, a quieter side. A London of sleeping tower blocks, peaceful parks, street lamps twinkling in the night. In its own way, the commute was actually quite a privilege. Few people are able to walk home from their jobs, and London at night is infinitely more beautiful than a view of someone’s armpit on the Tube.
Night walks are an excellent tonic for the stress and busyness of London, and a break from our increasingly digital lives. Approached with curiosity and openness, a night walk can be just as compelling as a TV box set before bed, and more nourishing than your smartphone’s news feed. Night walking gives me a fresh perspective on a city that has now become familiar, and when I make time for it, I always sleep better. (Emma Cummins)
‘The empty city feels like it’s yours’
I love that at night the city is empty (or emptier) and therefore feels like it’s yours. I love that the light is beautiful, even on a bright Scandinavian summer night; that you feel outside of the world. I have worked as a tram driver in Oslo, working until 1.30am or starting at 4.30am. I have seen the city go to sleep and awake many times. I’ve seen people going for their morning run in complete darkness, and the birds eating kebab leftovers on Sunday morning before the street cleaners arrive; I’ve seen tired people coming home from late evening shifts, watching warily out of the window. I have seen many beautiful sunsets and sunrises at wildly different times. (Anonymous)
‘In the midst of all the activity, there is calm’
I love the neon whirl of Shanghai during a night stroll through older parts of the city just west of the Bund, teeming with old neighbourhoods winding down for the evening. In the midst of all the activity, there is always this sense of calm. (Gordon Steel)
‘I’d hate to only know a city based on experiences during the day’
I fall in love with London more and more when exploring at night. In my teenage years, London at night was how I discovered it independently for the first time – how I really made it my city. At night you’re free to walk to places you otherwise wouldn’t go – because fewer people means more space, and partly because you’re not being watched. You have to find your own entertainment at night when everything is closed, and so you explore more. In some ways I can appreciate cities more once I know about them at after dark. Daytime London (or any other city) is only half of what the place has to offer. It’s a giant playground after dark – especially in the early hours. I’d hate to only know a city based on experiences during the day. (Bmorris)
‘The night reveals a fantastical Amsterdam’
After sunset at Amsterdam’s phantasmagorical Leidseplein the throngs of nocturnal revellers bask in the neon glow radiating from various bars and coffee shops. To wade into this mass, to pass through, offers the nocturnal walker solitude in a sea of strangers. One can hide in plain sight.
The night reveals a fantastical Amsterdam. If the night owl was to walk 10 minutes away from Leidseplein, to banish the bright lights to the rear view mirror, they would be greeted with canals and beautiful houses. Over water, humped bridges arch, bejewelled with delicate lights while spanning the murky straights. By day, brown, by night, black and silver, the water of Van Gogh.
The interplay of the soft light with the last vestiges of autumnal foliage drastically alters the old city’s essence, transporting the night walker to a different Amsterdam.
The night walk is a free experience, and one out of the ordinary in the environment where capital rules all. For one to turn a corner and witness the unfurling of a canal, touched by the moonlight, soundtracked by a keen breeze, is an experience that warms the soul on cold winter nights. (Will Brown)
‘I get so much inspiration from the ebb and flow of cities at night’
I spent four years living in Seoul and currently live in Tokyo. I’m a writer and I find I get so much inspiration from the ebb and flow of these grand megacities in the night-time. I love wandering between districts, finding the hidden connections between stops on the subway lines of these sprawling metropolises, and all the hidden neighbourhoods and goings-on that exist in between. (Haydn Wilks)
‘On nocturnal walks we explored palaces’
If there was anything that defined college years in Bucharest, those were the nocturnal walks when we entered courtyards, took elevators up and down, peeked shamelessly inside the illuminated homes, explored palaces, gypsy sheds, artists’ workshops, embassies, rooftops and squatted buildings. We entered everywhere we found a door open or someone awake and weird enough to let us in. On the longest night we got sequestered in a newspaper’s office by a limp guard who threatened us with handcuffs. He ended up making us sandwiches in exchange for stories about Che Guevara. (Anonymous)
‘I can walk by myself and be anyone’
The night is the best time to walk anywhere. The deep shadows cast by overhead lamps turn the most ordinary scene into a Cartier-Bresson magical print, eerie and atmospheric. I can walk against the cold night air, becoming a character from a movie; my high heels click and echo against the closed doors and windows, my thoughts my own. I can become anyone, anywhere, observing, reciting poetry in my head, looking at the stars. I don’t have to be cold and lonely inside. At night I can walk by myself and be anyone. (Anonymous)
‘In the still night, the silence is ripped apart by a panther scream’
Prague is a safe and well-lit city with little crime or major safety issues, but one of the great highlights of walking my dogs at 1am in Vinohrady just above the main train station is the wonderful terrifying vibe of the panthers on Italska Street. Yes, among the tenements, villas and the large Riegrovy Sady Park, reside two large panthers beside a tennis court. Sometimes you can meet them on the street being walked and at other times, in the pure still of the night, just a few hundred metres from the centre of the town, the silence is ripped apart by a large throaty panther scream. Got to love that! (Andrew Mann)
‘The darkness is kind to me and my anxieties’
I continue to wander the streets of my city at night, despite warnings that I could be putting myself in danger. I feel absolutely safe by myself in the darkness. On the rare occasions I do come across another nocturnal wanderer, we seemingly glide past one another, each in their own safe and soft cushion of darkness. The darkness is kind to me and my anxieties. It is not ostentatious, but subtle and unobtrusive. (Anonymous)
‘At night the city is more imaginative’
Cities reveal themselves differently at night than they do during the day. The day brings cities and their full agglomerative forces out to bare, and can overwhelm as much as fascinate. Details get lost in the fullness of the city. At night, the city is clothed, austere, and, in some ways, just as we are at night, more playful and imaginative. The stillness of the post-bar, pre-cafe hours amplifies the scale and ambitions of urban life. Only when absent of population can one understand cities truly are mankind’s greatest invention.
I lived for sometime in Yogyakarta, Indonesia. There – outside of a few drinking dens – the nightlife revolves around roadside food and tea stalls, roaming men with guitars, and motorbikes. Strict residential gender segregation forces amorousness into the city’s public spaces. Food can be found throughout the night, and any local student has a thick mental map of what time, and how spicy, the food stalls open at 3am are.
Last summer, I delivered the weekly alternative newspaper from the hours of 2.45am until 6am on Wednesday mornings in downtown Portland. Using my nauseous and sleep-deprived body in the crisp summer air, I would work myself into a strange funk of constant menial mental calculations, routing strategies, and memory excavations. For those few hours, the world was just the city and me and my memories. In our distracted and efficient and busy city life it’s amazing how many memories we all have across urban landscapes that get lost under posts, emails, and Google map suggestions. And how much can shine through, come out of nowhere, and smack you – if you let it.
Working at night made me see the city in a way I hadn’t since I begrudgingly accepted other people existed, at about age seven. Cities excite me in their vibrancy, diversity, density, and exaggerations of human capability. But, I love most their potential for fleeting and totally thrilling, solitude. (Braden Bernards)
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