Well, marching in the London Pride parade yesterday was an absolute blast.
The group I walked with from LGBT Humanists were lovely, the crowds were amazing, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many smiles in one place. Running up and down the street, high-fiving spectators while holding a placard was difficult, but no spills or falls occurred.
(Being screamed at by the religious extremists wasn’t as much fun, but they were quickly drowned out by the vast majority of free-thinking people in the crowd.)
After the parade, I met up with the usual suspects in the heart of Soho at Comptons, sank a few much-needed beers and had some lovely chats. The vibe was so friendly, so welcoming. Time flew by and suddenly, it was 9pm and I’d hit the wall. I was absolutely shattered. Time to make a move.
We made our way back home, stopping off for a couple of our favourite Burritos, then bed! This morning, I don’t have much of a voice, but I do have some incredible memories.
Happy Pride!
