The Dalai Lama and I looked at each other and smiled. Despite being used to the everyday crush of media around him, he seemed to take that second to connect with this stranger holding a camera towards him. And then he was off, touching and greeting all around him as I was swamped under the general scrum of photographers, security guards and other well wishers. He won't remember it of course, but I will. So I've looked into the eyes of (what he calls himself) just an ordinary monk. Actually, a rather extraordinary monk. What did I see? A humble man, certainly. And one with a bubbling sense of humour, looking slightly perplexed at the attention he receives, but clearly at ease with himself and the world. I instantly liked him.
I didn't like the event.
The media were there in force, jostling and bumping for position from the moment he stepped from his car. I don't envy press photographers. There was never at any point, time to take a considered picture. Plus, the weather was dull and drizzly, the stadium from any angle was covered in horrible advertising and the guards were implacable. Nevertheless, I enjoyed myself. More pictures tomorrow, I'm knackered.