Monday night - 23:59. I'm walking along the concourse, heading for a Taxi and as the Clock Tower in the Rocks starts ringing out midnight across the Cove, I stop and look back.
Usually I'm rushing to catch a train or scuttling through passages to get to the underground car park to beat the rush of Punters. Just now and then I catch myself and look around.
This night was particularly clear - a rare shower of rain had just passed and everything was looking crisp and shiny. And the view was shiny - I tend to forget that I'm working in one of the most beautiful buildings in the world - even if the concrete catacombs of the interior don't match up with the stylish exterior.