a right royal do

As previously discussed, I love the Queen. I think she's a remarkable woman who lives a remarkable life; privileged, public and, I imagine, often very lonely.

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.

bells

Ah man, the wedding. That's right, The Wedding. It was, needless to say, sublime. There's nay point gilding the lilly, so here's my summary:

Pippa's a beaut, Harry's a dish, Beatrice's antlers a huge mistake, maple trees an excellent idea, the dress perfection, the homily lovely, and "Wings Travel" received the best global advertisement one could wish for...

My favourite bit? Probably when William and Harry walked into Westminster Abbey, just the two lads together. Lovely beyond words.

© BBC 

the Queen

So, I'm the only single in the house, and I have a bowl of berry yoghurt to keep that niggly I-know-I-have-Haribo-in-my-cupboard-but-will-feel-guilty-if-I-eat-them feeling at bay, so I thought I'd write something here.

Nothing too exciting has happened today - I've been revising for my exam on Saturday (yes, Saturday - the ultimate in exam cruelty...), and in the afternoon I watched the Queen's speech.

I adore that woman. She is eighty-four years old - an age when, frankly, most people settle down to some well-earned knitted socks and a footstool. But not the Queen. Oh no, she soldiers on like a stoic matriarch, untiring and unflinching.

Watching her speech today became a strange mingling of old and new. All the gilt and pomp and circumstance and strange traditions (like slamming the door of the House of Commons in the face of the poor chap known as the Black Rod) are there alongside all the film cameras and yobbish MPs. Seeing the Queen sitting on her huge gold throne wearing the Imperial State Crown and talking about carbon emissions and super-fast broadband made for an interesting picture I thought.

And I get fed up of people going on about how stupid and unnecessary the monarchy is. I think having the monarchy - and all associated ceremony - is a brilliant part of our heritage and history, and makes me feel so proud to be British. I love that no matter how fast politics and technology might progress we still have those centuries-old traditions woven into the background. It's one of the things that other countries admire us for. As a nation we know how to put on a good formal show (marching bands and the like), and they're often imitated by other countries - though without the same pizzazz, although I do say so myself.

People complain about how much money we pay in taxes to fund the monarchy, but it actually costs only 50p per person, per year. Now, to me, that seems a small price to pay. I have far more issue with the money our government seems to be spewing into developing nuclear weapons than the little we contribute towards huge events like today.

Literally, for less than the cost of a first class stamp we can have little slices of history delivered right to our doorsteps, in HD surround sound, and a dose of national pride to boot. Surely that's a bargain worth shouting about?

our visitor

I had forgotten to post about the familiar face I saw on Northumberland Street on Friday.

It was extraordinary. I cried, of course. She had come to officially open the Great North Museum, and I think she visited Princess Eugenie too.

It was honestly so strange, she's such a familiar face but seeing her in person was quite surreal - and very unexpected!