wgerrard
Veteran
I'm just back from a UK visit, and thought I'd relay an experience that bears on discussions we've had here about the attitudes of UK police and security officials to photographers.
My London hotel was just off the Thames, about a 15-minute walk south of Parliament. Since the hotel wanted 14 quid for a coffee-and-danish breakfast (buffet-style, at that) most mornings I'd walk a bit north of the parliament buildings and have a breakfast at a cafe along Whitehall.
One morning, I'm sitting outside at the cafe, enjoying my coffee, when I notice an empty car parked in the middle of the street rather close to the Centopath. In fact, about as close as you can get to the Centopath.
(OK: Whitehall is the stretch of London street that is the core of the UK government. The Foreign Office and the Ministry of Defense, among other agencies, are located there, as is the prime minister's residence, 10 Downing Street. The Centopath, located very close to Downing Street, is a memorial to the UK lives lost in World War One. The queen lays a wreath there each Armistice Day.)
Anyway... I didn't think much about the car, thinking some poor fool had been late for a meeting and done something really stupid.
So I finished my coffee, ambled across the street, took out my camera, and started taking pictures of the car, the Centopath, etc., etc.,
In my left ear, though, I hear someone shouting, "Oy! Oy! Oy!". I look around and see someone in the distance standing in the street waving his arms. Figuring it was just some random urban nutjob, I happily returned to taking pictures.
But, the Oy, Oy, Oying went on. And got closer. I looked and noticed that the man wore some kind of uniform and seemed to be waving his arms at me. I waved my arms in a manner intended to ask, "Are you talking to me?"
The answer was yes.
So I walked up to the man in uniform, who asked me if I was English. I said no. He pointed to the abandoned car and said "we" are treating the car as a potential security threat. "Please walk to the yellow ribbon over there and an officer will allow you to cross through."
That's what I did, and then kept on walking.
Apparently, while I was at that cafe, security people closed off the street both south and north of me. Then, in my touristy stupor, I started photographing the very thing that they, understandably, saw as a potential threat.
The security officers (they were not ordinary cops) who dealt with me were professional, polite and serious. No paranoia about cameras. I am curious what their behavior might have been, though, if, in response to the officer's question, I had said I was English. Why was that significant? Did he think a Brit would not have initially ignored his Oy, oy, oying? Or, would I have been in trouble for photographing a car tagged as a potential security threat?
That night, I checked the news and fund that the car was, in fact, driven by some hapless bureaucrat who had been runnning late.
My London hotel was just off the Thames, about a 15-minute walk south of Parliament. Since the hotel wanted 14 quid for a coffee-and-danish breakfast (buffet-style, at that) most mornings I'd walk a bit north of the parliament buildings and have a breakfast at a cafe along Whitehall.
One morning, I'm sitting outside at the cafe, enjoying my coffee, when I notice an empty car parked in the middle of the street rather close to the Centopath. In fact, about as close as you can get to the Centopath.
(OK: Whitehall is the stretch of London street that is the core of the UK government. The Foreign Office and the Ministry of Defense, among other agencies, are located there, as is the prime minister's residence, 10 Downing Street. The Centopath, located very close to Downing Street, is a memorial to the UK lives lost in World War One. The queen lays a wreath there each Armistice Day.)
Anyway... I didn't think much about the car, thinking some poor fool had been late for a meeting and done something really stupid.
So I finished my coffee, ambled across the street, took out my camera, and started taking pictures of the car, the Centopath, etc., etc.,
In my left ear, though, I hear someone shouting, "Oy! Oy! Oy!". I look around and see someone in the distance standing in the street waving his arms. Figuring it was just some random urban nutjob, I happily returned to taking pictures.
But, the Oy, Oy, Oying went on. And got closer. I looked and noticed that the man wore some kind of uniform and seemed to be waving his arms at me. I waved my arms in a manner intended to ask, "Are you talking to me?"
The answer was yes.
So I walked up to the man in uniform, who asked me if I was English. I said no. He pointed to the abandoned car and said "we" are treating the car as a potential security threat. "Please walk to the yellow ribbon over there and an officer will allow you to cross through."
That's what I did, and then kept on walking.
Apparently, while I was at that cafe, security people closed off the street both south and north of me. Then, in my touristy stupor, I started photographing the very thing that they, understandably, saw as a potential threat.
The security officers (they were not ordinary cops) who dealt with me were professional, polite and serious. No paranoia about cameras. I am curious what their behavior might have been, though, if, in response to the officer's question, I had said I was English. Why was that significant? Did he think a Brit would not have initially ignored his Oy, oy, oying? Or, would I have been in trouble for photographing a car tagged as a potential security threat?
That night, I checked the news and fund that the car was, in fact, driven by some hapless bureaucrat who had been runnning late.
Last edited:
