Stephen Fry's Key to the City Page #2

your guide till it gets to 40.

Nine degrees. Ten degrees.

10.12, 13. This is a miracle.

It's an absolute miracle.

Oh, my goodness me.

Gently back into the centre position

now.

- There we are. - There. You can let that

go.

So are all the buttons

that are pressed need to be pressed?

The river lights. And here comes

one.

The Pfizer Cecilia.

A Swiss boat, I guess, is it?

Oh. Out of Grimsby. So that's not

very Swiss!

Trade is what the city has always

been about

whether on the river or in its many

markets.

And just a few minutes north of

Tower Bridge,

I'm given the rare privilege of

a seat in something called The Ring.

(CACOPHONY)

The cliche image of the greedy '80s

is of men

in bright coloured blazers shouting.

All but one of the those markets has

gone to computerised heaven.

Now, just the one, the London Metal

Exchange,

remains a live, throbbing market.

I have to say, it's one of the most

dramatic spectacles

I've ever encountered.

Apparently, the guys sitting with me

in the ring are dealers

buying and selling metal futures.

Say 1,000 tons of zinc in three

months time.

The ones standing just outside are

giving them instructions

which they get from

the colleagues in the outer ring

who are on the phones to the clients

who might be, say,

Peugeot cars wanting to buy

aluminium for next year's production.

I'm told that over 80% of

the world's industrial metal prices

are set in this ring and the urgency

is because everyone waits

to buy or sell till seconds before

the market closes.

Tim, you were just...

You were like... Everybody

is standing with their faces...

Veins bulging out on your forehead.

And you've absolutely transformed.

- An animal. - I've lost my voice now.

- I can hear that.

So, did you make money on that?

- You don't know yet. - I don't know

till the end of the day.

- You now have to do the computations.

- Now we work it all out.

- You selling or buying?

- I was selling and lending.

And borrowing. I was doing

everything.

Absolutely incomprehensible to me.

But, as theatre, it's one of

the most remarkable things I've seen.

I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Whether you are trading metal

futures or ready cash,

the city is the throbbing heart of

world finance.

And at its centre - the Bank of

England.

On the ground floor, there may be

marbled halls,

but in the basement, the emphasis is

not on show but security.

Oh, my. Is that what I think it is?

Good Lord.

20 in huge...

Oh, my God!

(MIMICS CONNERY AS BOND) You

do realise you're mad, Goldfinger.

I'm waiting to meet

the Chief Cashier, Chris Salmon.

This is like a wholesale warehouse

ready to supply the retailers,

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