BRITAIN: There has been a lot of talk about Londoners exhibiting a dour "Blitz spirit" in the aftermath of the July 7th bombings. But they still know how to party, as yesterday's opening day of the Notting Hill Carnival showed.
More than a million people will have danced, gyrated or simply staggered through the streets of west London by this evening. And while the turnout at "Children's Day" yesterday was down marginally on last year, it was still an impressive show of defiance on a weekend when the first plaque commemorating victims of the London bombings was unveiled.
"Unity and Diversity" was the theme of this year's event and scores of scantily-clad revellers celebrated it with relish - thanks to constant sunshine and a never-ending throng of steel bands, calypso and other music acts. The smell of barbequed goats' meat - a carnival speciality - filled the air, while plastic cups emptied of fresh coconut milk and "Guinness punch" were trampled underfoot everywhere.
Up to 10,000 police officers were on duty, but by 6 pm yesterday only eight arrests had been made, all for minor offences. Extra transport police patrolled bus and train stations, where public announcements reminded commuters to report suspect packages.
On one underground station platform this reporter could not help catching the eye of a young Asian man - a student probably - carrying a backpack, his face weary from having to get used to being observed with suspicion.
"The bombings have changed everything," said Seán Kelly, a native of Wexford and carnivalgoer, who has lived in London for the past 12 years. "Everyone is suspicious. People look at me and think I'm in the BNP because I've a bald head and I live in Tottenham. It's only when I am with him that they think differently," he said, gesturing to his seven-year-old son.
It will take a lot, however, to shatter London's love for diversity, a typical illustration of which was seen at All Saints church, the front yard of which had been taken over during morning service by Rastafarian DJ King Tubby. His ear-splitting music shook the ground so hard that churchgoers did well to hang on to their prayer books. But none complained.
It was the sort of tolerance one can only find in London.