More than thirty years have passed since we last took leave of Her Majesty to inspect her guards as they changed shift, and one of us decided it was time we popped off once again to ensure that all was well.
We are not well practiced at this being tourists lark, having to be places on time, joining queues and so on, but had done our homework and the website had assured us that if we arrived fifteen minutes early all would be well.
Indeed it was, and we took our place around one thousand people back from where one could actually see anything, and proceeded to watch the backs of heads various for the next thirty minutes, progressing towards the fence ever so slowly as those in front, realising they would never actually get a reasonable view, wisely departed. Interestingly, those in the after positions seemed to become increasingly optimistic as they crept toward a position four or five people from their target, only to realise that the reason that the first four or five rows of people hadn't actually left was that they could see the action, and were therefore unlikely to give up their spots.
We didn't care. We were free to do whatever we wanted. If that involved looking at the back of someone's head for thirty minutes while somewhere in the distance out of sight a band worked its way through Neil Diamond's greatest hits, well so be it.
By the time even we had run out of patience and turned to leave, the million or so people who had been behind us, were of course in front of us. In front of us in the queue no matter in which direction we turned. In front of us they were, at the Cabinet War Rooms, at Westminster Abbey, at Southbank, at Covent Garden, and Picadilly.
So we found a restaurant they didn't know about and did lunch.
We are not well practiced at this being tourists lark, having to be places on time, joining queues and so on, but had done our homework and the website had assured us that if we arrived fifteen minutes early all would be well.
Indeed it was, and we took our place around one thousand people back from where one could actually see anything, and proceeded to watch the backs of heads various for the next thirty minutes, progressing towards the fence ever so slowly as those in front, realising they would never actually get a reasonable view, wisely departed. Interestingly, those in the after positions seemed to become increasingly optimistic as they crept toward a position four or five people from their target, only to realise that the reason that the first four or five rows of people hadn't actually left was that they could see the action, and were therefore unlikely to give up their spots.
We didn't care. We were free to do whatever we wanted. If that involved looking at the back of someone's head for thirty minutes while somewhere in the distance out of sight a band worked its way through Neil Diamond's greatest hits, well so be it.
By the time even we had run out of patience and turned to leave, the million or so people who had been behind us, were of course in front of us. In front of us in the queue no matter in which direction we turned. In front of us they were, at the Cabinet War Rooms, at Westminster Abbey, at Southbank, at Covent Garden, and Picadilly.
So we found a restaurant they didn't know about and did lunch.
1 comment
Lovely to see your recent posts ... I do enjoy knowing what you are up to. Fancy you being in London when all the while I was imagining you in France.
Post a Comment