Maria

Wheeling a bicycle down a temporarily pedestrianised London road, I am stopped in my tracks by a stirring chorus.  A large group are standing around a stage-truck swaying their hips and singing their hearts out.  'I believe in the power that comes', they sing, 'from a world brought together as one.  I believe in together we'll fly.  I believe in the power of you and I'.  I am inspired.

They follow it with a rousing rendition of 'Africa' by Toto, complete with hand movements.  They are a motley crew of all ages, shapes and sizes.  The crowd that have assembled (admittedly less in number than the choir themselves) give an enthusiastic round of applause.

I approach one of their members.  'I really enjoyed your performance', I say.  She is a middle-aged lady with salt-and-pepper hair cut into a straight fringe.  She has a brightly-coloured string around her neck to hold her glasses.  Her black shirt bears the logo of the 'Monterey Peninsula Choral Society'.  She is, as you would expect from her singing, friendly.  'We're a community choir', she tells me, 'we're not even properly trained as singers'.  One hundred and ten of them have come to London to give performances around the city during the Olympics.  Yersterday they performed in Westminster Abbey.  'We don't have time to see any sports', she says.

She asks if I have ever been to the States.  I say that I am planning a trip there shortly.  'Shoot', she says looking in her pockets, 'they don't let us bring bags with us and I don't even think I've got a pen'.  She wants to give me her e-mail address so that she could put me in touch with her children who live in San Fransisco.  'You probably won't have time', she says.  I don't have a pen either but type it into my phone.

Before leaving I ask my question.  'I didn't used to like it', she tells me.  'I thought it was too prim, prissy, whatever'.  Her dad had stenciled her full-name onto her bicycle (she points at mine to demonstrate) and she had scratched out the offending middle.  'He wasn't very happy', she says.  'But now I think it's pretty'.