If you do want to celebrate the day, it seems Salisbury is the place to go.
Hot Ginger and Dynamite takes a more jaundiced view:
tonight I’ll probably go to the pub, scowl at moaners and then honour St George in the way he would have wanted, by killing an iguana with a foundue (sic.) fork.
Too polite? Not so many years ago we had a St George’s day celebration here. The local soccer team were playing at home, and a group of flag waving home supporters turned up – except they were not supporters of either team but instead were the heavy boys from another town. After the match, in a nearby pub that only serves home supporters they started a fight which spilled out into the street. We were treated to the spectacle of the police forming them up like a detachment of soldiers, surrounding them with a rectangle of riot police, and then the whole lot marched off to the railway station.
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