The rewards of success and the perils of failure

As if to make the point further, journalists were sent on a snaking journey through Silvertown, underscoring the rewards for success - in the shape of Canary Wharf as a backdrop - and the perils of failure - in the form of the derelict docks and scrubland that still hugs the Royal Victoria Dock.

I have travelled these roads many times but I've never seen them as an arriving journalist would have seen them - from high on a coach seat. Suddenly, the derelict Graving Dock, the numerous slabs of unadorned concrete, the hardy weeds pushing through abandoned land were all that was to be seen.

East London may present itself as a symbol of the possibility of regeneration following decline but the capital refused to conspire with the imagery. A dour fog greeted our friends from abroad - feeding the notion that we are still in the days of the Ripper-esque pea souper.

And, of course, the fog shrouded the silver towers of Canary Wharf and a westward gaze would only bring a vista of unending grey - not the visual metaphor or the capitalist denouement the hosts of the summit would have wished for.

The prime minister was acutely aware of the weather and appeared, on greeting his many guests, to be apologising for the low cloud and freezing temperatures.

As journalists trooped from security point to security point, taking in the Royal Business Centre, the City Airport, Tate & Lyle, those from warmer climes wrapped scarves around their heads and murmured "Dios mio" (or similar, I presumed from a combination of facial expressions and exclamations.)

PAPERS PLEASE

If anarchist protesters resent the present democratic process, they should experience the alternative.

We are in a dystopian future, where police, some with arms, some with dogs, hang on every corner, and we all became blindly obedient in the face of authority.

The officials were all charming and helpful, of course, but that doesn't remove the sense of alienation that paper processing, photo cards and a general climate of security engenders.

"Stop there," said one official. I stopped. On the spot. Immediately and without thought. She laughed. "I didn't mean an emergency stop. You could have slowed down first."

That's what it's like. Someone says something, you do it. If liberal capitalism and free trade is the bulwark against such impositions, it is to be hoped the guys next door manage to hammer out something meaningful before the sun lights up Canary Wharf once more.

Keep up with the G20; keep checking wharf.co.uk.