street party

This afternoon, by some degree of chance, I attended a ribbon cutting ceremony of sorts. The afternoon was dragging on with a desperate struggle against a protein that simply couldn't be bothered to come off the column I had earlier bound it to when I received an email about current goings-on at College. I scanned the list of teasers, ready to bin the whole thing, when one item caught my eye: Opening of Exhibition Road – today.

Exhibition Road, which forms the eastern boundary of Imperial, has been completely rebuilt over the last three years. The ambition was to transform it from a busy thoroughfare into an idyllic space shared peacefully by pedestrians, cyclists and drivers. Nearly 30 million pounds (depending on whom you ask) was spent to, as I see it, remove the curbs. I had seen the result already because the new Exhibition Road has been open for a few months now. The reason I ventured out into the cold anyway was that the official opening – which was today – was headlined by Boris Johnson, the mayor of London, who is, if nothing else, always entertaining.

At the intersection of Cromwell Road and Exhibition Road, a small crowd has assembled in an anticipatory mood. I joined them congregating around a large tin elephant with two dignitaries in colorful costume in front of it. Behind the mechanimal a bearskin-wearing marching band readied their horns. Then The Final Countdown erupted in odd instrumentation, and Boris appeared. The music stopped, the watching crowd was parted, then the music started again, and a small procession started up the road.

I had errands to run in South Kensington and bolted momentarily. When I caught back up with the proceedings, in front of the Imperial College Business School, the uniformed ambulant musicians were still playing. When the music stopped, I expected speeches but there were none. The ceremony didn't feel rigidly structured. Boris posed for the press and chatted with the crowd, no doubt hoping to convince them to reelect him in May.

Two token wheelchair users had been shipped in for the occasion. Boris eagerly grabbed their hands and delighted them with his gregariousness. Their presence might have been a cynical PR move, but it was clear from their faces that the meeting meant a lot to them. Suddenly, the harmony was shaken. The cameras were still flashing when a forlorn protester with a placard questioning the wisdom in all the spending sidled up to Boris. The guard who had earlier failed to deter him ("Please stand over there. The sign has sharp edges. People might get hurt. This is a health and safety requirement.") and now stood between the protester and the mayor looked dismayed, but Boris was unfazed.

He didn't mind the protester or the prospect of having a picture like the one above serve as a visual summary of the event. He might be a buffoon with questionable effectiveness in office, but I appreciate his cheerfulness. However grim the situation, he always remains upbeat. So instead of getting security to remove the protester, he answered his question with a prepared soundbite about how the Exhibition Road regeneration would return many times the investment in increased spending by tourists.

With this, the street party came to an end. Officials and the press moved into the business school lobby for canapés, drinks and sermons, the crowd dispersed, and I went back to the lab. The damn protein was still stuck to the column.