Charing Cross bridge. Monet painted over 30 works on this bridge alone. Here again, he uses the fog to his advantage. It’s later in the day, the sun is almost at its zenith and yet the mists refuse to yield their hold on the greatest metropolis of its day. Westminster in the distance becomes a ghost of its real self, a few straggly rays still seem to pour their benediction on the hoary stones. In the foreground, the bridge is delineated where the sun lights up the Thames, the rest is still in obscurity. A few clouds of smoke arise from a vehicle as it passes over, and I can smell the damp cold of London; an Indian standing in Switzerland is transported to Britain by a Frenchman.