G20

I woke in a hazy apathetic daze and had a faint recollection that it was the start of the G20 summit in London.

Activism for Dummies: if you're really unsure of what is going on, google really basic things like "protest, today, LONDON" ... or, "April 1st, G20 protest". Thankfully mainstream news are on top of things and are sure to give away vital clues like where the pandemonium is set to unfold. Although in this case it was hard to miss; there were so many people. I am really out of the loop these days; long gone are the times when I was organising anti-war protests, planning animal rescues or getting trespass warnings. I have pretty much entered the retired home of activism's geriatrics.

After some pretty basic research I realised that the event was set to unfold right on my doorstop. "Shit, I will have to get the tube to Bank from Liverpool Street". I realised pretty quickly despite my foreign-ignorance that I could actually walk there pretty damn fast.
Earlier that morning I'd popped into HSBC to get a cheque issued in New Zealand dollars in order to post off to get a replacement drivers license (mine was stolen). The teller informed me that the street would be taken over later today.

On the way home from the bank three dozen "anarchist" black-block sprinted past with things rattling in their pockets. Either rocks or their mobiles - I was unsure. Two rotund policemen ran after them cursing under their breath.

There was a general quiet on the streets - not the usual hustle and bustle of Bishopsgate. The calm before the storm.

After getting home from the bank I decided to go back out and observe the protest... from a purely journalistic perspective... well that's what I told myself.

The first set of gatherers I encountered were the climate camp activists; those coming from the environmental activist perspective. Campaigning, they say, against policy that perpetually degrades the environment... using slogans like "Nature doesn't do bail outs." This lot were calm, relaxed and on-the-whole pretty chipper. They had the best live music playing and the more colourful dancing. They'd erected tents along the roadside and were sharing delicious looking food. The police formed a block at one end. Nothing seemed to be happening. I walked on to the Bank of England.

Walking toward the protest - roars of cheering and screaming rolled down the road. A couple of policemen passed me yawning; an unusual sign. All four corners of the area in front of the Bank of England and St Paul's were completely blocked. I managed to make it in for about ten minutes, but it was impossible to see what was happening. There were no loud speakers. The police moved in and created blocks on every entrance, then left a gap and created another block; at times six policemen thick. From where I was standing protestors were reserved and not challenging police at all. It was said that protesters had broken into RBS and set up camp. I didn't see this. The police I saw were pretty rigid and when challenged were exercising the excuse that they'd been up since 7am. There was a sense of performance about the event. The police immediately playing a role that curtailed even when things were friendly and far from out-of-hand.

All the exclusive shops were well boarded. Activists mingled with local office workers - there were hundreds of photographers and media present. All-in-all it was hard to see what was going on.

A lot of effort had gone in on the part of activists to create witty slogans, costumes and colourful flags to put up by scaling lamp-posts. People were hanging off famous monuments and from subway signs.

My admiration goes out to people who dedicate time to raising awareness of the problem with the current economic structure. Congratulations to Jesus and the Grim reaper; two key performers in today's activities.

I returned to HSBC, as requested, at 4pm to pick up my cheque in NZ$ for 31.10 - but the bank had closed early.