The People’s March for the NHS - the day we filled Trafalgar Square

Let me be clear, I am not political.

But I support the NHS. I have worked in the NHS for 24 years and I love its principles and all it stands for.
The idea that health provision is not for personal gain sits deep within the National Health Services’ principles. So far that, if a patient or service user gives us a box of chocolates as a Thank-you gift, we as staff take it back to the office to share with everybody.
The underpinning concept is this: the NHS (and all its workers) will provide care for patients, regardless of who they are; whether they are rich or poor; whether they can afford to buy a box of chocolates or not.
So the idea that our health services should be run by private companies who (have to) make a private profit out of the health/sickness of the nation, seems simply very, very wrong.

I love the NHS.
And I love walking.

So when I heard about the People’s March for the NHS, started by a group of people in the North-East (referred to as the Darlomums) and retracing the steps of the 1936 Jarrow March from Jarrow to London, I immediately felt this was something I wanted to be part of.

Being not political I thought of it as a walk rather than a political march.
Having registered with the march for the last five days my anxieties were mostly around practical issues, such as would I have to carry my own luggage; would I need to buy my own food and find my own accommodation?

And being somebody who can take a while to relax around strangers raised the question whether I would fit in with an already well-established group?

I needn’t have worried.
The generosity and hospitality of people was amazing. We were fed and cared for every day. Community centres, the Methodist church and individual people opened their homes and halls for us to use. People cooked for us. Leisure centres let us use their showers. People were amazing!

And as for fitting in with the group?
On the end of my first day, having joined the group in the early afternoon and only walked 5 miles or so, standing along the sidelines watching the rally unfold, Rehana Azam (one of the Darlomums and organiser of the march) said to me “Come and stand with us. You are one of the 300 milers now!”
Thank you, Rehana. That meant so much!

Our core group of 30 people or so was really a bunch of quite ordinary people. And spending so much time together, it seemed easy to get to know people. Walking is a wonderful way to get to spend time and chat.

So my thanks go to all of you who have shared that journey with me.

To Rehana for keeping us all together and making sure nobody got lost. You are amazing! It must have been like herding cats.
To Craig for keeping us chanting and shouting, even when we were dead on our feet.
To Jo, James, Geoff, campervan “It’s a motorhome” Joe and medic Jordan (and all the others I have not met and cannot name) who were keeping us supported and safe by driving, transporting and organising things behind the scenes.
To Icarus and Vinny for managing to get me dancing and singing after marching 15 miles – even if they weren’t at their best the following morning.
To Barbara for her gentle patience and her great humour. And for convincing me that people beeping their horns and shaking their fists angrily are really angry with the NHS cuts, not me!
To Dr Raj, big John, Jim and Brian - men of few words, but when they speak it is worth listening!
To Dave and Ian for making me laugh all the way.
To Trish for always finding the nearest toilet.
To Nicola for her advice on foot care.
To Carol, Neil, Terry, Ann-Marie, Margaret, Fiona, Stella and Joanne for inspiring me with their perseverance and energy.
To Tone and John for great conversations along the way.
To Geoff, with whom I could have spent hours discussing theology and the role of the church in the political issues of health care and poverty.
To anybody else I may have forgotten to name.
And to all you unknown people out there, who offered us food, refreshments, accommodation and support along the way.

To those who clapped and cheered, shook our hands and even showered us with flowers!

You are amazing. Did I say you were ordinary? You are anything but ordinary! You are the most extraordinary bunch of people I could ever have hoped to march with!

Thank you for teaching me so much. By the time we reached London to be met by thousands of people I was beginning to realise that the future of our NHS is a political issue and that I cannot have an opinion about it without being political.

I am beginning to listen more carefully to what politicians are saying about it.
I am beginning to get involved in our local campaign to save our own A&E department.

I am political. Let’s keep fighting for our NHS!

Added April 2015:
The fight for the NHS continues, even more so in the run up to the general election.
To follow the events of the Marchers for the NHS, check their website. And join us!

Visiting Greenwich

A couple of weeks ago I took my daughter to Germany for a few days.
Now it was time to have a mother-son day with my 16-year-old. We decided to visit London and to go somewhere we had not been before - Greenwich.

The first thing you see when you arrive in Greenwich is the Cutty Sark, a famous tea clipper, which was once the fastest of its time and which has now been restored to its former glory. We did not go in, but here is a picture from the outside.

I also sneakily managed to take a picture of the two of us in the glass structure which surrounds the ship.

We visited the Maritime Museum and the old Naval College and then climbed up the hill to the Greenwich Observatory. We decided not to join the throngs of tourists who were queuing to have a picture taken whilst standing on the Greenwich Meridian Line. You can see it for yourself here.
The view over London from the Observatory is fantastic!

Then we treated ourselves to lunch in a noodle house and a trip down the Thames towards Westminster. In all my years in the UK have I never been on the Thames, so I really enjoyed the experience.
There is something very profound and spiritual about rivers ...

Having arrived in Westminster we had planned to head back towards Euston station and go home ... but there were severe delays on the Northern Line, which meant we abandoned our plan and leisurely waled up towards Euston instead.
We enjoyed the street artists on Trafalgar Square and Convent Garden.

Especially this guy managed to draw the crowds.

We finally arrived home in the evening, tired and ready for bed.
It's quite rare these days to spend quality time with my 16-year-old son, who can be quite surly and non-communicative.

So our visit to Greenwich was really quite special!

London

                     

So, I am sitting on the train to go to London when it occurs to me to text a friend who works in London, asking if he has time to meet up for a coffee. He texts me back, saying "I don't really have time, but I am at Lambeth Palace at lunch time for an Advent Eucharist and a reception with the Archbishop afterwards. Do you want me to try to get your name on the list?"

I take a brief glance at my city outfit - jeans and duffel coat, consider whether that's the right attire for the occasion and text back "Yes, please!". How can I say no to meeting Rowan Williams, who I have great respect for?

Sadly, I didn't make it in the end. No free place available (which isn't really surprising, I guess).
So, having narrowly missed the opportunity of meeting the Archbishop, what's a girl to do but take in the sights instead ...

A beautiful restaurant front in Drury Lane

Re-used pram

When we came to London some years ago, our son was about 10 years old. Nothing we saw could impress him! Everything was "like home, only bigger". But Covent Garden DID impress. I mean, what's not to like? ...

The decorations ...

... and the inevitable street artists

Then I walked on towards St Paul's Cathedral. A beautiful building - although I found £15 too much to pay. So I spend a little time in prayer in the small side chapel instead. (You don't get charged for praying, luckily!)

The I headed back through St James' Park ...

 ... and past Buckingham Palace. Seems that Her
... past Buckingham Palace.
Seems that Her Majesty lives right next to a busy road. Location, location, LOCATION, Ma'am!

This is what I really came for. Not the Archbishop or the Queen, the PM or Santa ... but the German Embassy. Surely the place where bureaucracy was invented!

After some serious security procedures (think airport) outside in the street, I got to spend an hour inside before having my passport documents seen to. Enough time to bond with some other German expats, who were equally bemused by the whole thing (10 years is just enough time to forget the previous ordeal!)
Much hilarity, some discussions about the rights or wrongs of crossing the pedestrian crossing at red when there is no traffic about and a few stories which remind us why we all came to the UK in the first place and never left.
(If we laugh too loud, will we be denied our 10-year German passport??)

Obviously, photography is NOT allowed inside the embassy, hence no pictures of my new-found German friends.

Having the passport business finally sorted, it is time to head back towards Leicester Square. On the way I pass Chinatown.

I had a great time in London.
It was fun to avoid the Underground as much as possible and to take to the streets instead. It doesn't seem to take much longer and there is much more to see!

A final message to combat any remaining disappointment about not having met the Archbishop: