It started to drizzle after I finished the coffee I had been nursing for a half-hour whilst waiting for the Shard’s viewing gallery to open up, one cold winter’s morning.

I was looking forward to the view from London’s latest skyscraper as I had heard, and read, a lot about it. There’s something about being high up and watching the world below you that is ephemeral, a sense of serenity that everything is continuing as it should be, a sensation of light-headedness that comes not from vertigo but perspective.

The building, designed by star-architect Renzo Piano, pierces the sky. Standing at its base, looking up the vast expanse of glass is a mind-numbing experience, an exercise in rendering scale and depth obsolete.

Upon presenting my ticket, the courteous staff guided me through the quick security check. These sort of things can be annoying, especially in airports, but the progress through the queue is swift and you’re done before you know it. You’re then guided to the first of two lifts that swish you up to the viewing platform.

As you rise, you can feel your ears popping as you are carried up to level 69 which is the main viewing gallery.

From here, you can see the trains crawl into or out of London Bridge station upon which the Shard is built. You can see the Thames estuary as it curls its way into the distance. You can see the toy-shaped Tower of London beside Tower Bridge.

The view is breath-taking. As I walked around the gallery, I could see the main sights listed above the thick panes of glass to help me orient myself. The London Eye, a child’s toy at this height and distance, rotates in front of a dwarf Westminster.

The weather, despite the rain, was clear enough for me to identify most of the sights of the city. I could even just about see Wembley Stadium lurking behind a cloud. I can only imagine what the view is like on a clear day.

I then climbed up the stairs to level 72. The only way I could be higher is if I tried to scale the antennae perched on top the very tip of the Shard. Here, you are exposed to the elements and while the view does not change much from the viewing gallery below, the atmosphere does.

Now, you are conscious of the wind howling around you and the raindrops working their way through your hair as you look down and gaze at the toy town below. Without even needing to concentrate, I felt my mind emptying.

I felt myself relaxing.

My eyes flickered to and fro; Thames, boats, dot-sized cars, the snake-like form of the commuter train to Kent, the Walkie-Talkie skyscraper seemingly reclining away from me.

It is a sense of awe.

It is a sense of wonderment.

A suspension of belief.

I stood at the edge of the platform and, due to the angle of the skyscraper’s outer walls, could almost look straight down. The last time I experienced anything similar was when I was doing the Bridge Climb on top of Sydney’s Harbour Bridge with my good friend Raphael.

I walked down, slowly. The sense of tranquility drew me towards the viewing gallery again where I idly wandered around, again and again, until I finally ended up in the souvenir shop on the ground floor.

I thoroughly recommend this experience if you’re in London. Interestingly, if the visibility isn’t good, you can get a ticket refund (check the web site for details) so there’s nothing to lose with booking a ticket in advance.

This shall now go on to my list of ‘Things to do when in London’.

Especially now they’ve opened a Champagne bar …