Talk: Kleptoscope #2 - London's Dirty Money

So, tonight I was signed up to a talk at the Frontline Club - first in an age. And were I not on gardening leave, having quit my job yesterday, I wouldn't have made it - but as it is, I'm barred from actually working during this time. Or going to the Guildford office. Which makes no practical sense - I was hardly going to pick up any sensitive information in the remaining month, and I'm effectively dead to them, which is going to make things a lot harder for the transition. But hey, their loss! I'm not complaining.

Now, late this afternoon, just as I was getting ready to leave, the electricity meter ran out. Oh goodee. So that was a trek to get it topped up, and then I had shopping to do, and my mother to Skype - so I was actually a little bit rushed. The route from here basically involved getting to Victoria - fast by train, slow and cheap by bus. Not supposed to be that much slower by bus, but at that time of the evening I knew traffic would be a nightmare. So train it was, then not long to wait for the 36 to St. Mary's Hospital, and it was just ahead, across the road.

Lots of stairs to reception, where she checked our names off the list. Lots more stairs to the venue for the talk, and it was good to be back there:

Lots of Vietnam photos dotted around, but I've always been struck by this particular one by Don McCullin. I was shortly joined by someone I knew, and we chatted until people started arriving - we'd been sternly warned to be there half an hour early to get a seat, but the place had only been half full when I arrived, at about 20 to. When people started needing seats, I ended up moving right in to the wall, where I was practically sat right on top of a radiator that I was sure was going to set my leg on fire. Hey-ho.

The talk was the second in the Kleptoscope series about London's Dirty Money, and the speakers included Ala'a Shehabi of Bahrain Watch, Ben Cowdock of Transparency International UK, and Richard Brooks of Private Eye. As ever in this venue, all were fascinating, as they led us through the murky world of shady foreign characters' misappropriation of funds. Apparently, this series was built on the back of a Kleptocracy tour, where they would take people around London in a bus, stopping outside mansions bought with foreign dirty money..

Ala'a told us the engrossing story of how the beautiful beaches of Bahrain, from which her grandparents earned their living as pearl fishers, have all but disappeared, appropriated by the royal family, who have built luxury apartments and hotels on them, reclaiming the sea. "Turning sand into gold", as she put it. Ben led us through the stream of foreign despots who have bought £10-million houses in London, focussing specifically on Syria (Assad and his cousins), Libya (the Gaddafis) and Egypt (Mubarak). All enthusiastically welcomed by Boris Johnson, of course, with his vision of a spaceship full of foreign gold bullion, descending on London. And finally, Richard laid it all out for us, in a fascinating interactive map showing all the foreign-owned properties - available on the Private Eye website. Zooming in on London was amazing, as the purple that denoted a foreign-purchased property dominated the whole map - although, as I pointed out to my companion, there wasn't much purple around the south-east.. plenty of expansion potential! Just a pity that their internet connection was so dicey, causing a considerable delay in pages loading.

And that was as much as I got, I'm afraid. I do kind of get the feeling I just wasn't meant to go, tonight - all evening I'd been battling one of those tummy upsets that just kept getting worse. I knew I was in trouble when I got extremely nauseous, suddenly - although I managed to hold it in. Still, while we were waiting for the Private Eye pages to load, I decided enough was enough, and this was when I made my disruptive move - I'd seen toilets on my way in, and I was making a beeline for them. Unfortunately, with the chairs crammed in as they were, this was not a discreet exit. :-)

I flew to the toilets, when I finally got out. Had a very uncomfortable time in there, then literally dragged myself to the bus stop, whimpering; I had wondered at the wisdom of taking the bus, nauseous as I was, but Google Maps said it was quicker, which swung the decision. I was lucky that one arrived at the stop just as I did, and made sure to sit myself by the door, where I'd get a draught. Ooh, that bus journey was fun, holding it in.. funnily enough, the best distraction I had was the lady beside me, who was confused about her directions - by the time she decided just to get off at the next stop, I'd got a second wind. Still, every moment of the journey home was agony, and it was a relief to collapse on my bed, finally. But I am glad I went - and when the podcast eventually goes up, I can catch what I missed..

Tomorrow, I'm back with the Crick Crack Club, in the Arthouse Crouch End, for one I missed before - Little Red Riding Hood & Other Lost Girls, as told by Nell Phoenix. And yes, I do have the confirmation email for this one, unlike the one I thought I'd booked for last Sunday week!