London on THE DAY(!)

Why would a heavily pregnant celebrity endanger little Becky by perching on impossible platforms?

Why would a Duchess carry the bow-wave of an ocean-going freighter on her dome?

Why would a minor princess be sporting an alien detector on her brow?

Why, of course, it's London, silly, and it's the Day Of the Royal Wedding! Wills and Kate; a.k.a The Prince and Miss Middleton.

Hoping for a last-minute invitation, or perhaps for a wave from HM's sky-domed Bentley, your Royal Correspondent took the trains to The City on the eve of The Day to see the sights and take the public pulse.

The weather was fine as dusk descended on The Metropolis Thursday evening: not too warm or damp: providing the suspense of wondering whether He and She would have to put the top up on their carriage ride back from the Abbey to The Palace.




In late winter we had occasion to visit the Royal Mews, around the rear of Buckingham Palace by the gardens. Ever wonder how they keep those carriages tuned up and ready for a spin, and train the horses, and do all the spit and polish stuff? It's a wonderful eye-opener, window on tradition and traditional crafts performed at the highest level of skill and experience. And there is a LOT of polished stuff to see!






A stroll around the Queen Victoria Memorial brought me down the slope to the head of the Lake in St. James Park. The blooms just would not quit in the fading light, while the flock of coots tucked in among the Queen Anne's lace and bluebells at lakeshore.


A stroll down Birdcage Walk and Great George Street led me to Parliament Square.
Police barricades made the whole adventure a bit like peeking over the walls of a hedged maze: you can see where you want to go, but your way is blocked.
(What do you suppose the tall American gentleman standing in the shadows would think of all this?)


All around me people are relaxed, enjoying, anticipating; the yellow-vested, omnipresent Metropolitan police as much as anyone. (Did you see the video of the copper leading the cheers in The Mall outside the Palace?) There may be concerns for the weather, for Royal bloopers, or for unthinkable violence, but all seems light-hearted.
These ladies are down from Ireland for a weekend of lighthearted celebration in London. Like many of a certain age, one said to me that she had been here for Princess Di's wedding as well.
















After a curbside pint and some chips to keep me going, I made my way into Belgravia to the well-guarded Middleton family precincts, the snazzy Goring Hotel. The Great White Way was in place, in order to deprive prying eyes a glimpse of The Dress. Need I say that the press was everywhere. . . .

The Day Of
The morning air was cool and thick as I came off the Tube at Picadilly, though people were preparing to party when I went into a shop to catch some portable breakfast foods.

















Security forces and crowd barriers were the order of The Day. Trafalgar Square was filling with people -- their packs having been searched -- settling in to watch the big screens, and anywhere near the processional route wsa thronged.


"Well, hang on now," you say, "Where is all this happening?" I certainly wouldn't know Trafalgar from Regent's Park if I hadn't lived here for awhile. On my handy-dandy pocket map the red "smilies" are my various locales on Thursday evening. I started Thursday evening in Green Park, and wandered to the circular Queen Victoria Memorial in front of the palace: there's my first smiley. I walked around to the south, through the St. James Park, cross the bridge, and to Westminster (smiley in the lower right), and wandered finally over to the lower left smiley -- near the Goring Hotel. On Friday morning I wandered down from Picadilly (off the top of the map), through Trafalgar Square (off to the right) to the yellow smilie, where I saw The Procession to the Abbey. Read on!

London's finest had rehearsed every inch of this pageant, but that didn't put a damper on the street vendors and the silliness. Did I mention: I ran into the Prince of Wales & Duchess of Cornwall out for a quick walkabout before the festivities(!)
















Gazing down The Mall through the Admiralty Arch gave me a great sense of anticipation: that tens of thousands of people watched respectfully -- with noise and jostling, of course -- but respectfully, for the show to begin. Along the route the crowds draped and hung themselves on any conceivable vantage post, and I was lucky to enjoy a serenade from the Red Coats.

As William's great-grandmother (the "Queen Mum") and her husband George V looked down on the route, mock reporters interviewed mock Royals.

Whether sporting national banners (China, Bermuda, Canada, USA, you name it) or home-made taunts, the crowd was having fun. "Kiss him, Kate" said the wags across the way.

And then the roar began, far up The Mall, as the Royals took flight: headed for the Abbey, choreographed in split seconds. First one limo, then another: the roar passed like a wave, died, and rose again. William and Best Man Harry in a Bentley. I stretched high and snapped: focus and framing were luxuries.
The prize for oldest ride went to the father of the groom, Prince Charles, and wife Camilla. They rode to Westminster Abbey the Queen's Rolls-Royce Phantom IV built in 1950.
As I thought about heading back to The Abbey, I heard a copper tell someone that Trafalgar Square was "full." Imagine that: so many people watching the big screens that they wouldn't let any more into that giant space. So I headed back toward Picadilly, found an inviting bistro, and watched the ceremony with dozens of fellow patrons, and more dozens outside, peering in.
And then I knew it was time to take the trains and buses back to Lane End -- don't ask about the transport challenges of the day. As in nearly every community, our Ditchfield Common neighbors (Bob and Art, and wives Denise and Ann) had organized a party on the green.
Bunting, barbecue, beer and potluck: kids, and tractors and donkeys and dogs -- pretty much like the Fourth of July in Cabot. Except that everyone felt like their future King and his Lady had done a good day's work, and they were happy to be part of the big Family.
Wisteria, Union Jacks, and roses bedeck one of the neighboring cottages on Ditchfield Common.