Imagine, then, my surprise and delight when I find out that my mum has been nominated by a colleague to be invited to the National Service of Thanksgiving at St. Paul's Cathedral in London for the Queen's diamond Jubilee, and she wanted me to be her plus one!
In fact, there I am, next to the Queen herself:
It was, quite literally, one of the most surreal moments of my life. For a start, never having been in the Cathedral before, St. Paul's was overwhelmingly beautiful. We assumed that, as part of the pleb contingent, we'd be allocated seats that were stuck behind some pillar somewhere, so we got there good and early in the hopes that we might actually get to see what was going on.
Being the youngest member of the congregation by a good couple of decades helpfully meant that even 7.45 was a bit too early for most of the old dears, so we were incredibly lucky to get prime aisle-side seats just before the dome.
The whole thing was utterly, utterly glorious and surreal. From the household guards with their huge domed helmets draped in white ostrich feathers to the Alice in Wonderland-esque heralds with their Royal Standard tunics, black tights and blue birds on the end of long black sticks, it was altogether well outside of my everyday experience.
Seeing Harry, William and Kate (who, by the way, gave me and Mum a little grin and a nod as she was walking back down the aisle -- probably due mainly to the fact that Mum and I were beaming from ear to ear, unlike seemingly everyone else...) was probably the strangest and most exciting bit. They're so oddly familiar, you've seen their faces so many hundreds of times before in newspapers and on the TV, that seeing them in real life felt truly bizarre. We all, the outsiders, have been privy to so many of their private moments -- weddings, funerals -- that we feel almost as though we know them.
I remember hearing the crowds outside roar with cheering and clapping when they all arrived (as well as chanting 'Long live the Queen, long live the Queen' again and again as she got out of the car -- that bit made me cry. Quite a lot), and feeling so much a part of something, something huge and historic.
There is lots, lots more I could say -- about leaving the Cathedral surrounded by screaming crowds and lights and cameras and film crews; about the lunch reception at the Guild Hall with stairways flanked by soldiers wearing armour, actual armour, and holding muskets and pikes -- but I won't. It sounds like I'm showing off, and I'm not. I'm so completely awestruck by the whole thing that only when I watched it on BBC iPlayer did I really believe that I was there at all.
It was an honour to be there, and I felt completely privileged to be part of it.
