Yesterday, I rode my bike to the Queen's to see how London Freewheel would turn out. This event promised to promote city cycling and tried to get everyone on his or her bike on this sunny day that Sunday was. A number of roads were closed along the Houses of Parliament and the Embankment, and Londoners were encouraged to find out how cool cycling is. The roundabout outside Buckingham Palace and nearby St James's Park were the hub of all.
While I passed underneath Wellington Arch in my approach, I could already tell that coming wasn't a good idea. Too many people. Congestion. Stuck. I did the loop anyway, and then headed to Trafalgar Square. I had no special business to do, just wanted to buy something to read and hang out in a coffee shop, to read and watch. There's a lot to watch on the streets of London.
What I didn't see, in my infinite ignorance, was the drama of the day, reported today on BBC news. The pigeons are starving. Apparently, the no-feeding rules are being enforced, and the pigeons go hungry. Good, I think, they'll go someplace else or cut their flock down to sustainable size. Bad, even catastrophic, says The Pigeon Action Group. What the hell, ask I.
Why do sewer rats with wings deserve loving attention and special care? All across town, everything is done to control this pest. So why should they have carte blanche on Trafalgar Square to shit happily and spread disease? I'm not even talking about human misery and starvation in Africa. Feed the pigeons – how much more vain can one be?