I was back in London again for a week. As I passed through Gatwick customs, where I’ve been routinely insulted and intimidated for the last 15 years and 100+ trips, one of the officers present appeared deeply shame faced when I looked him in the eye on passing through.

Walking along Fulham Broadway for the first time, and the first police car to pass me. The car had to slow due to building works on the road, and the driver after looking at me and clearly recognizing me, then looked at the barriers and scaffolding to his left and theatrically laughed before looking at me again stern faced.

A couple of days later, I was sitting at the cafe next to the Met Police station in Kensington High Street, and several machine gun wielding police were heading back there, as I sat facing them. One of them looked at me, then stopped and looked past me, and gave a theatrical wave. I turned around and could see nobody who might be acknowledging his wave.

At the Fulham Broadway shopping center, I was walking out on one occasion when a couple of young girls of about 15 or 16 passed. A Neill Catton male CIS security guard, who I can’t remember seeing before, theatrically checked them out, almost bending over to get a closer look.

On another occasion, I went into the Boots store there, for the first time in a long while. This is the store in which the Ricky Gardezi TSS security guards would follow me around, arms folded menacingly, while smirking – when I was going in there to collect essential prescriptions for my elderly mother dying of cancer. This time, there did not appear to be any security guard in the store, but as I turned to come out after using the self-service till, I saw that a large black male security guard was standing outside at the door, arms folded and craning his neck to look at me with theatrical curiosity. As soon as I exited the store, he walked off smirking. I then took a photo of him, which he saw and gave me an equally theatrical look of innocence and puzzlement as to why I would be doing so.

I left London through Victoria rail station. At the WH Smiths there, I’ve been followed and gaslighted by the security guards for the last few years. I would go there to buy crime magazines for my elderly mother. It appears that Ricky Gardezi, the CEO of Total Security Services (TSS), which employs the guards at WH Smiths (and Boots, Tesco etc.), is still having me pointed out to his security guards. As I walked towards him and out of the store, he stood looking at me smirking, but his expression changed to anxiety when he realized I was recording him.

Another disturbing incident occured at Victoria Station while I was having a coffee upstairs, whilst waiting for my train. Looking down on the ground floor below, I saw three Met Police officers pass a group of Italian schoolkids of maybe 13 or 14, mainly girls. One of the officers theatrically checked out one of the girls as she passed him, and then turned to his colleagues and laughed.