May Day London 2003

Here are the details of what I had planned for the day for those who missed it.

The day started out simply enough with a trip to Canary Wharf. I must say the police presence surprised me. These were the first three policepersons I saw, and I popped my bags of shoeboxes down for a quick picture. Sharp-eyed locals will no doubt recognise the Daisy & Tom shopping bag that clearly identifies me as a hardcore anarchist.

I figured there'd be plenty to get on with on the day, so decided to get the wanky art out of the way first (see London Peace March for previous wanky art). The point of the exercise was to plant open shoeboxes (containing the pictured 'authentic' incriminating document) that could be conveniently discovered by Daily Telegraph 'journalists.'

Discovery was a major part of the work, so it wasn't quite as simple as delivering a box to the front desk. I left the first two in the care of these gentlemen facing the Canary Wharf Tower.

I also left some facing the 'smokers corner' out front of the building, in the park a small distance from the main building (presumably reserved for more anti-social smokers) and in this cosy little basket.

Finally, I headed into the shopping complex below the building and left a few more ready to be discovered, including this one located where most right-wing journalists do the majority of their thinking (and dating, if you believe the gossip).

From here, I made a clean 'getaway' via Docklands Light Railway (you can see the last one I left in place under the seat there).

BTW, the inverted commas are there because I actually had to ask a policeman for directions. Hardly the crime of the century. Still, Canary Wharf wasn't an 'official' target as far as I knew, but I had mentioned my intentions regarding this installation on the Urban75 web forum (favourite for authoritarian lurkers). Could all of those police really have been there just to hassle little old me? I can only assume not, as I did the entire installation in full view of a number of police and security guards, towing a dirty great black plastic bag. And stopping to take photos every few minutes.

No matter. The train took me all the way to Bank. I toodled right along, because I was late for the disco.

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