As a 30lb pelican marched towards me, chest puffed out and wings splayed like Popeye, I began to regret my decision to spend the day as a St James’s Park keeper. Dressed in a fish-gut-stained coat and thick rubber gloves, I reached into my bucket to pick out a defrosted trout as a gaggle of tourists gathered for the birds’ daily 2.30pm feed. My fingers had barely gripped the fish before it was snatched out of my hand, the bird’s rapier beak jabbing upwards towards my neck before gulping its