YOU SENSE THE decay before you enter. Patches of pale tarpaulin flap from the roof. The stained limestone walls are exhausted: eaten away by traffic fumes and time. The big black anti-terror bulks are the last truly solid thing you see.
Inside, it overpowers you. Damp clings to the ceiling at the north end of Westminster Hall. Parts of St Stephen’s Hall appear to have come away in visitors’ hands. Those are just first impressions.
The further you wander, the more decrepit the Palace of Westminster seems, from the stained carpet leading up to the Commons public gallery to the attendants’ threadbare fancy dress. Traces of Blitz damage remain at the entrance to the Commons chamber, seventy-seven years on. Even the MPs look worn out, going through the motions of ill-attended debates as listlessly as zoo animals. It is hard to believe that these pasty, fretful, well-tailored creatures, weighed down with tradition and responsibility, belong to the same species as the multi-coloured, trainer-shod, head-phoned, restlessly modern crowds outside.
Beyond public view, it’s worse. MPs’ offices are shabby and badly ventilated; the toilets are a running joke. But the real decay lies deeper still, among hundreds of miles of tangled cables and dodgy pipes. It lies in the dank, rodent-friendly basements, or up among the rusting gutters, crumbling gargoyles and leaking windows; and, not least, in the deadly asbestos that lurks unseen in ducts and floors. If it weren’t for the discreet, round-the-clock fire patrols, it wouldn’t even be legal for use.
If it once occurs to you to think of the Houses of Parliament as a catastrophically over-ripe Stilton, it’s hard to dispel the image. Decomposition has seeped into everything. One strong blast of wind, you feel, could reduce the whole thing to a puff of noxious dust.
In fact, the Palace could once again be made fit for purpose. The cost of doing so has been estimated at up to £6 billion, although that might be almost halved if MPs agreed to move out completely for six years. As I write, they have yet to decide – although by the time you read this they may finally have done so. So far, however, they have shown a marked reluctance to leave.