Bobby is always in his car, driving back and forth on the highway that links Vienna and Salzburg. Other people travel that same route, he picks them up to save money on petrol and talks to them along the way: the soldier questioning what it means to fight, the supermarket trainee heading to see family, the academic looking at the history of the highway, the queer woman about to get married; different paths, different accents, different stories, most of them true. Bobby listens, but also speaks about himself, about his youth, about aging, about his friend in a coma in Salzburg who’s the reason for all these trips. Mountains and forests rush by outside, broken up by junctions, barriers and bridges, the quality of light shifts along with the seasons. Neither a documentary, nor entirely fiction, London is a quietly political portrait of today’s Europe via its in-between spaces and those passing through them. Even in these strange times, anonymity and kindness can still go hand in hand.