In-ge-lund, In-ge-lund, In-ge-lund, In-ge-lund.... That's what the English supporters were chanting happily at the conclusion of tonight's soccer match with Germany in Euro-2000. (In fact, as I speak, someone is shouting it eight floors below me on the street.) From the start, the omens had been good. The game was to commence at precisely 19:45, which, if you remove the colon, is the year Germany was beaten in the 2nd World War. Okay, that's kind of crude and boastful, I admit. To be fairer then: the game was being played only a few tens of miles from where the Battle of Waterloo took place - where we beat Napoleon two centuries ago :) Anyway, In-ge-lund won tonight, 1-0, with a fine display of guts and character, and now we can all get on with our lives until the next game on Tuesday!

What else happened today - oh, I saw the Queen. It was yet another celebration for her birthday - this time, the biggy. Enormous crowds, ranks and ranks of mounted Royal Horseguards, and the trooping of the color. Yes, all this pageantry is open to criticism in this age, and I'm no strong fan of the Royal Family, but it was pretty beautiful to see these gloriously dressed men and horses trotting perfectly down the Mall to pipes and drums.

Horseguards Parade - with the crowds waiting for the queen and her Horseguards

Here come the Horseguards - only 4 of several hundred.

And Mrs Queen herself!

Jeez and what a beautiful day it was - cool and breezy in the shade, eighties in the brilliant sunshine. The sort of perfect day that unfortunately inspires fat, young Englishmen to remove their replica England soccer shirts, tie them round their large waists, and expose their white (soon to be red) skin.

A large, naked, male English waistline; its owner, and his long-suffering girlfriend. Note the English soccer shirt around his waist.

I gave myself an easy day today, mostly lying on the grass - first in Holland Park, and by late afternoon, in the shade in Russel Square.

Passing through Picadilly Circus, brilliant in the sunshine.

A traditionally dressed English gentleman (not the sort to wear an England soccer shirt tied around his waist) shopping for "'is veg." at the awesome Fortnum & Masons, a store that is to groceries as Buckingham Palace is to the cricket-infested apartment I moved out of earlier this year. I don't think he appreciated having his photograph taken too much.

Look what I found - a Starbucks on Picadilly!

The end of a beautiful day - - lying on my back watching life pass by in Russel Square through half-closed, sleepy eyes, the cool grass under my back.