Opposite Banks

Today the Southbank Centre is playing host to two fringe groups, break-dancers and slow fooders (or is it foodists?) and, in the spirit of bonhomie that pervades the place, probably hopes to establish some overlap by the time the sun sets.  It's a reasonable enough ambition, grounded in logic: a day's exertion on the dance floor would naturally rouse a certain hunger in any full-blooded b-boy or b-girl, and I'm sure they'll be only too happy to get their b-hands on some b-food, however slow it might be.
Across the river, the Embankment is teeming with protesters looking to express their opposition to the Sri Lankan government's offensive against the Tamil Tigers and voice their outrage at that same government's alleged human rights abuses.  Seen from the Southbank Centre's balcony, the crowd appears as an undulating mass of black and white, bracketed by a swarm of small red flags fluttering relaxedly in the breeze.  Everything looks pretty relaxed from here, and even Cleopatra's Needle, which has seen a thing or two in its 3,458 years and is today right in the middle of the crowd, doesn't seem too concerned by the scene.  It's a lovely, grey-white day in old London Town.