I have mixed feelings about St. George's Day.
On one hand, it's nice to have a day of the year that's 'yours' and the Irish have made a worldwide phenomenon of St. Patricks Day (and everyone seems to have a wonderful time...), however on the other I'm no fan of jingoism and - so sue me - I'm not particularly patriotic when it comes to chest beating and flags.
So, on this day of commemorating the most English of Saints (except he wasn't really, and he didn't slay a god-damn dragon either, people) I thought my way of summing up what it meant to be English could be really well served by hitting London and surveying our melting pot culture (yes, we have one Ms May...)
I'd wanted to go shooting down the tube for a while, and Baker Street station - with its beautiful ceiling - seemed like a great place to start, so following on from catching a few unhealthy, gasping smokers outside Paddington, I sat down and snapped away as the many Brits on the go in London embarked and disembarked their tubes.
I could have sat there for ages, but a quick bite called so I dropped into the South Bank to catch the usual joggers - presumably still lost from the London Marathon - and lunchers down by the waterside.
Any station is good stalking ground for candids (as long as you don't get caught...) and so just as I turned to go back home I spent a bit of time on the platforms of Waterloo.
Seeing the people of London, with all their nationalities, colours and different ways of life did make me think again. Since St. George was a Roman - with Turkish and Syrian parents - who never visited England, is both a Christian saint and a Muslim and Jewish prophet too, perhaps he does symbolise modern England a bit more than we think, but in a totally different way that might be suspected - and that's Alanis Morissette grade ironic.
Now, can we all just have a day off?
After my manual fun and games (stop that, Ed) I was back in AF world today with both 25mm and 85mm Zeiss Batis seeing action and the Sony 55mm popping up on occasions too.