Despite summer having gone awol, and today being greyer than underwear that has made a lifetime’s habit if sneaking into the dark wash, people were out to enjoy themselves on the Southbank for the last weekend of the Festival of Love.
If you’re thinking, as I did, hang on a second, wasn’t the Festival of Love last year? Yes, it was.
My own guess is that this is a cost cutting exercise as the Southbank was not as exuberant as in previous summers; most of the installations had, to my eye, the air of being cheaper options.
But the theme was given a twist; love as a political force. Apparently there above the QEH there was an installation reworking Mandela’s statement that “if people can be taught to hate, they can be taught to love”, but I was blowed if I could find it. Unless this was it.
In the RFH there were posters with pictures of Change Makers, people whose actions have improved the world.
Some Southbank perennial favourites drew crowds of onlookers and participants. Wise people brought towels and spare clothes.
But the big event today was that this was the Big Wedding Weekend. It was almost enough to make me want to get married.