My London
I head into town to do a touch of shopping and by happy coincidence arrive at Trafalgar Square in time to see the Olympics parade and Dame Kelly Holmes address the nation on our "phenomenal success" at Beijing. GB was fourth in medals and the Special Olympics team second. Visa Card is kind enough to hand out Union Jacks and the square is filled with cheering fans awaiting their heroes who begin at Monument then Fleet Street and the Strand before finally us. The spirit is everywhere: face-painted youngsters, old-codgers in tweed caps, teen-agers playing hookie and everybody British and loving the autumnal day, which is warm in the sunshine. From there, I sneak into the National Gallery to visit a few Degas, Van Goughs and Monets as well as some older stuff by Peter Paul Reubens and David Teniers de Younger, both Flemish Masters. By contrast, I pop over to the Portrait Gallery next door to catch the Annie Liebowitz exhibition - her photographs are super duper chic and I love the shocking opening portrait of Johny Depp between then naked girl friend Kate Moss's legs -pictured - it sets the tone for the show. Leibovitz had a close romantic relationship with essayist Susan Sontag and she profiles their relationship in black and white, including Sontag's cancer which ended her life early. In no other place could I take in this much in just one block. Wow.
From Lord Nelson I cross Piccadilly on my way to Carnaby Street to buy some trainers (brown and purple - I ask the cool black kid who serves them up whether "a middle-aged white guy" can get away with the things and he smirks: "they're just trainers, man.") On a nice day, London is hopping and you would never know there is a financial crisis - the FTSE 100 down 5% at this morning's opening trade. Still, thinking about those Olympic athletes, especially the heroism of the handicapped athletes, life is in perspective no doubt it is. Plus England beat Belarus.