LONDON - BREAKFAST in Britain is a grand occasion on any day, what with its legendary fry-ups of bacon, eggs, sausages, mushrooms, tomatoes and bread.

But I had not realised just how grand it could be until a portly gent at the table next to me in the Chelsea Bun Diner broke into a few bars from Bizet's Carmen.

Such passion at 8am - or a novel way to make a pass at the friendly waitresses, I thought. Luckily, I am a morning person and so welcomed the diversion.

We got to talking while waiting for our poached eggs on toast. Turned out he was a 46-year-old lorry driver named Neil who led his neighbourhood chorale group.

His early morning Carmen serenade to one and all was 'nerves', he said. He had an upcoming town hall concert over the weekend and was 'testing my vocal reflexes'.

In walked a friend of his, who slapped him on the back, wished him well for the concert and exited with a brown-bagged sandwich. Neil ushered him out with another few bars of Bizet.

'You are something else, you know that,' said his friend.

But Neil wasn't the only Briton I met who was seized by art.

On my 20-minute walk back from the diner to The Franklin, my charming Edwardian-style boutique hotel which was a stone's throw away from Harrod's, I saw an ice cream van go by which blared more opera, this time by Welsh baritone Bryn Terfel.

Waiting for my train at the South Kensington tube station, ticket warden Rowena Wilkins, 43, was tearing as she read the H.E. Bates novella, The Triple Echo. 'It's so sad, the girl doesn't get the guy in the end,' she said, in between giving me directions to the Richmond line.

The city simply thrums with curiosity, creativity and culture. Walking through a park on the South Bank one rainy Monday afternoon, I had my bottom patted by a mime artist who wore giant extended sequinned gloves which swept the yard.

A few metres away stood a living Mozart statue - actually, a man who had togged himself up like the composer and painted himself electric blue all over. He winked, grinned and gestured mournfully at his fast-dripping make-up.

Few passers-by stopped to give them a bob or two, but they smiled and hammed it up for everyone in the pouring rain. Now that's some spirit.

These people don't just talk art, they live it with every fibre of their being, I thought.

Such melding of art with everyday life should surprise no one. Britain is, after all, where people vote for their favourite national book (The Lord Of The Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien), favourite national poem (The Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge) and, when I was there, the greatest painting in Britain.

Turner's radiant watercolour work, The Fighting Temeraire (1839) - which hangs in its National Gallery - got the most votes (27 per cent) and was declared Picture Of Britain on Sept 5. I rather liked Van Eyck's The Arnolfini Marriage (1434) myself, but then, I'm just a happy wanderer passing by.

It makes solid sense, then, that London is now trying to leverage on its unassailable arts cred to arrest its slide in tourism after the July blasts.

In the months since the tragedy, the city's tourism arm VisitLondon has unleashed a string of sorties to entice visitors from near and far.

The most exciting among these has been The Cultural Revelation in mid-September, in which tourists got to dance alongside professional ballerinas, watch American actor Kevin Spacey prepare for his role as Richard II backstage and listen to British director Stephen Daldry tell of how he created the smash hit movie, and now musical, Billy Elliot.

Among the other highlights have been a grand celebration of African culture; a tribute to theatre hotspot Covent Garden - which is celebrating 25 years as a cultural area; and Liberty, an arts fest for the disabled complete with acrobats, musicians and dancers.

To be sure, the road ahead is looking to be rocky for a bit despite such best efforts, what with the psychological potholes left by July's terror blasts in the heart of London, which killed more than 50 people.

Last Monday in Britain's Parliament, Member of Parliament Sarah Teather estimated that the July blasts could cost London as much as ?500 million (S$1.5 billion) less in tourism takings this year.

That's far worse than Britain's Tourism Industry Emergency Response Group's estimate of a ?300 million shortfall for London's tourism revenue right after the blasts in July.

Which is a great pity because, from January to June this year, the London Visitor Index showed that the city was enjoying an exceptional run. From January to March this year, London's overseas visitors rose by 13.8 per cent compared to the same period last year. Visitors this year also spent 14.3 per cent more than last year. This strong showing so early in the year has made it possible for Visit London to put on a brave face and expect tourism growth of 6 per cent, with spending up by 8 per cent, for the whole of this year.

A VisitBritain spokesman said there was no worrying let-up in the number of Singaporean visitors to Britain, but a 'couple of markets', which it declined to specify, were furrowing its brows.

But she added: 'People tend to book later than they used to, anyway, so feelings are pretty positive.' But, in the end, it's people, not places, who make a country great. There was uncommon magic woven by the tapestry of humanity around me - of fruit carts and buskers, chatty theatre crowds and secondhand booksellers, scruffy artists in mid-sketch and graceful ballerinas on smoke breaks and yes, opera-loving lorry drivers.

Long live London.

• Chelsea Bun Diner is at 9A Limerstone Street SW7 (tel: +44-020-7352-3635 or click on www.chelseabunrestaurant.co.uk). Open from 7am to 12 midnight Mondays to Saturdays; 9am to 7pm on Sundays. The Franklin is at 28 Egerton Gardens, Knightsbridge SW3 (tel: +44-020-7584-5533 or click on www.franklinhotel.co.uk For more of the best of Britain, click on www.visitbritain.com/sg