The bottom line of this perhaps rather long narrative, is not, as I initially started out as a perhaps green, green badge cab driver, who did not move to the valley of Diesel “Ilford” with the obligatory new cab, wife, mortgage and two kids.

No one more surprised than I at the realisation of what has materialised, a first hand description humiliation and deprivation of the British working class from the 1930's.

This erosion brought about entirely by deliberate policy of successive governments.. and the ten draconian years of Tony Blair who deliberately, for whatever reason, encouraged the influx of irrepresible waves of the World's disenchanted onto these shores, by doing so, creating a powerful, intimidating, devisive weapon against the indigenous labouring masses and a hard core of … crime, poverty and unemployment… the triple iron fist of all governments,plus Enron, 9/11, Afghan conflict over oil, Kosovo all emphatically used by Blair; any outcry was by "politically incorrect racists" as Dr David Kelly was to find to the cost of his life.

The differential between rich and poor, is greater now, than during the Middle Ages.

Bucuresti, my Wife and Mahler’s 1st Symphony

Against this indictment of the West, all is not quite lost, so far as I am concerned,

Here in Bucuresti, there is a humanity, the likes of which I have not known since my days as a child in Hackney..

Children play in the streets, the streets, free to be walked in at any hour, If there is repression, I have never encountered it.

The women, attractive, smart, educated, unafraid, they smile at Peter, perhaps with some curiosity, some scepticism .

Bucuresti, once the “Paris” of Eastern Europe .. not very long before it regains that title.

No identity problem, no pressure to entertain other, alien people, to give them homes, money, rather than the indigenous population. No other cultures forced down the throat, forced to become subservient to them… now a indictable offence to speak out against such a intolerable situation, quite confident the truth, the reality, the realization will break out, perhaps erupt is more appropriate .

Crossing the border from “Europe” into Hungary, into the East, is a revelation. Suddenly there is sanity, people freely communicate with each other, the tense, tight atmosphere specifically created here by those in power, for their own purposes does not exist.

In my long life there have only been three things I have managed to find which have been any good…


Bucuresti, my Wife and Mahler’s 1st Symphony .
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