Been in London for the past four days on an unplanned diversion but did manage to be here for the World Cup quarter final. But when I went to join the celebration, from Charing Cross, through Trafalgar Square, up through Piccadilly, along Regent Street and onto Oxford Circus, although there were many a flag to be seen, only a very very small number were the flag of St George. But did see the above sign a few times, and if you can’t take the word of the Lord Mayor of London for it well who then can you trust?
But this was the real story of the weekend and it ran almost as hot in the press as the story about fishing those kids out of caves in Thailand.
BO GOES Boris Johnson finally surfaces to leave official residence for final time after quitting as Foreign Secretary with damning letter saying ‘Brexit dream is dying’
The Prime Minister moved to replace him with Jeremy Hunt but she could now face a leadership challenge from Leave-backing MPs furious at the soft Brexit plan agreed by the Cabinet at Chequers
Theresa May is no Iron Lady. But what really got me was that when I first lived here in the 1970s, even then the UK was at the centre of things. Now, it seems, nothing that happens here matters very much. Wherever the action is, it is no longer in London. Perhaps Theresa is right to just throw in her lot with Merkel and be done with it. But for myself, I hope we get the hardest of Brexits. Without a domestic Parliament and secure borders a country can never be a nation.