If there's one thing I like to do on a Sunday afternoon, it's to make friends with celebrities on a gay rights march.


I quite fancy Amy Lamé. It's such a shame she's a lesbian.

Anyhoo, having experienced the Children's Parade on Saturday, I had a choice of local events to attend yesterday. First there was the 46th Historic Commercial Vehicle Society London to Brighton Run (by the time you've finished reading the title, you'll have missed the event) and then there was the Stonewall Brighton Equality Walk. Which was equally good. Obviously. In the end it was just too damn difficult choosing between a collection of old vans and a gay rights march, so I thought what the heck, I'll go to both.

Like most events that take place down at Madeira Drive, the Historic Commercial Vehicle display was largely dull, although it's possible I'm just saying that because they refused to let me cross the road unless I bought a programme, which I felt was a bit of a liberty. Ultimately though, a three-foot high barrier doesn't stop you taking photos, so I made my way along the free side of the fence and discovered a bus from Ellenbrook Road in Ipswich, a stone's throw from the Tesco's where I used to shop. It's a small world. Or possibly just a big vehicle display.

As for the Brighton Equality Walk, that began at the Royal Pavilion at 2pm with the metaphorical starting pistols being fired by none other than Amy Lamé (chubby glamourpuss and close friend of Danny Baker), Mr Gay UK (not his given name) and Antony Cotton (the camp one off Coronation Street). I wasn't sure of the route they were taking, but fortunately for me it didn't matter, because fate had conspired to bring Amy and me together that day.

As I walked past the pier, keeping an eye out for gays on the move, I looked to the right and who should I see emerging from East Street and trying to cross the road on a green light, but Amy Lamé herself, closely followed by a few dozen militant homosexuals and a soap star.

You have to admire someone who's not only been on Celebrity Fit Club, but is also the face of Hula Hoops (the potato snack, not the plastic ring), so as Amy picked her way through the traffic, I gave her a smile and reached for my camera. To my surprise, she smiled back as if she knew me (possibly she reads this blog), and as her fellow campaigners marched off along the seafront, she came over to me instead. I politely asked if I could take her photo, she said "Sure!" in that laid-back breezy way Americans have when they're not trying to shoot you, and we exchanged a few words.

The whole experience may have lasted less than a minute, but I felt we bonded, and I fully expect to get a good write-up on her blog today. I was tempted to suggest we leave behind the cruel world of gay rights and jump on a bus to Gretna Green (see right), but in the end I felt that when you take into account the fact that I've got a girlfriend, and the fact that she has too, it would probably never have worked.

She was very nice though. I just regret not asking for Danny Baker's phone number.