The green day

The Trafalgar square is so crowded. The atmosphere is that of a town party after the return of a dear friend from war. Everyone seems to know each other and people of different ages are talking with other. The common particular? the beer, especially Guinness.

What else can be the thing that unite the thousands people who come in charing cross to celebrate the St. Patrick day, except for the Irish dark beer? You see around and everyone, Irish or not, has at leat a huge brown pint in hands, often more than one. They are totally dressed with Irish clothes: from the people who have bought only the traditional green joker hat or a fake long orange beard to the ones who went here totally dressed with old-fashioned Irish clothes. The first person dressed who totally took my attention was without doubts the one who seemed to be an Irished version of the singer Elvis: you would have thing it was really the myth, except for the fact that it was 65 years old and totally dressed in green, right. He moved to the folk music played live by a band in a very funny way, a mixture between the moves of the same Elvis on stage and elements of the Tip Tap dance. Everyone would have love him.

When I left the Charing cross tube, the first impression left me astonished: I’ve been in Trafalgar so much time and it was never so crowded. Also in normal days when It’s full of tourists coming to see the national gallery, I had never seen it so full. It seemed like you cannot insert a single person into that space. So, as I thought to enter in the square was really difficult: people passing near you with beer spoiling, hitting you to pass, shouting, like a concert. But when I finally reached  the top of the square, the view is amazing: everyone shouting to the stage, waving their hands, dancing, singing.

For one moment London was turning green and orange and was leaving its multicultural cover to become a fully Irish city: a giant town with its folk parties , showing a national identity that still remains, despite of the fact that lot of them moved to London in search of a better life. St patrick day is still that reminiscence of a nation divided but united into the heart of their abroad inhabitants.

That’s what I like about Irish in the end, they’re very united, and the power and the grandiosity of the St patrick parade I’ve attended this afternoon shows that this spirit is still alive and forever will remain.

Long live the Ireland!

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