On the train, I said I'm on the train

I'm writing this on the train, not because I've got anything to say, but simply because I can. This is thanks to the mobile internet connection, which seems to be working really well, here at Charing Cross. I'm on the way home from a file inspection in West London.

Today, like everyone, I've been enjoying the discomfiture of the BNP. The Guardian has produced a useful map showing where not to live in Britain. Last night I searched the list for SE6 postcodes - there were only 3, which isn't bad. It's one good thing about Catford, I think, that there aren't any seriously monocultural areas, everyone has neighbours of all kinds, which makes it hard to maintain ignorant prejudices. Probably the worst prejudice these days is against East Europeans - because like any first wave of immigration they tend to be young single men who stick together and don't speak much English. While I was in West London I toyed with the idea of finding a Polish builder but the Ravenscourt Park newsagent no longer has the small ads boards that used to attract a crowd of Polish workers. I guess it's the result of legal action, or might it reflect the fact that Poles don't want our devalued sterling anymore and are all going home?