Having spent the last few weeks walking the Coast to Coast I’ve been pretty oblivious to the epidemic that has swept London in my absence. Bunting. You can’t move for the stuff, in different shades of patriotism; with everything from St Georges Crosses and Union Flags to neutral shades flying on the Southbank. I even saw a Brockwell Park Shelter daubed with St Georges Cross’ and slogans such as St Georges Day is ‘ere so give us a beer. Sheer poetry. With the addition of a Royal Wedding it’s a bumper year for bunting manufacturers all over Taiwan. I’ve tried to ignore the Press, good and bad, and the rumblings and chunterings about the supposed Beer Ban. I have a simple view that at the end of the day I’ve got a day off work and it’s as good an excuse to raise a glass or three. I’m sure you’ll do the same whether it’s in a boozer full of bunting or a free zone such as the Duke of Wellington in Dalston, who will be saying wedding, what wedding? Oh and don’t worry those Greens out there, i’m sure the millions of meters of plastic bunting will get a dusting off when the Olympics swings around.