It has been a bit of a strange day, although one not without it’s perks. I decided to go to another protest up in westminster, this time against the bedroom tax. As you may know, there was supposed to be an opposition day debate over it, so a protest had been organised accordingly and advertised on Facebook. While this grossly unfair tax does not affect us directly (yet), I felt I needed to go up in solidarity, as it hits those with disabilities the hardest.

It was easy enough to get there, but when I got to parliament square all hell was breaking loose: apparently a suspicious package had been found and the place had to be evacuated. How very convenient for the tories. I eventually caught up with my fallow protestors outside parliament. They were quite pissed off – the debate had had to be abandoned and indeed Iain Duncan-Smith had not had the honour or integrity to show up in the first place. I think that tells you all you need to know about the honourless scum currently running the country.

The protest broke up un due course, giving me an opportunity. It occurred to me recently that it is about time I got to know central London; I mean really got to know it, as a local would. As a child my parents took us there quite a lot, and I’ve been living in the suburbs for three years now (or is it four?) so I’m not totally alien to the city. Yet I still don’t know it’s innards that well. So I decided to take a walk. In the end I didn’t go far: from Parliament square up Victoria street, along to buckingham palace, through st. James’ park and Horseguards and back along whitehall. I was surprised how compact everything was; it would be nice to take Lyn up there for a walk in the spring.

With that I caught the bus home, reflecting on the fact that I live in a vast, wonderful city, the capital of a nation currently being run by people completely without honour, compassion or kindness.