Day Forty-seven from Melissa - Trooping the Colours

Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, where have you been?

I've been to London to look at the Queen!!!

I must've sung that nursery rhyme a hundred times when I was little - I never, ever thought I'd actually get the opportunity to really see her!  Most study abroad students don't actually get to ever see her, but today was the Trooping of the Colours.  No I didn't misspell that - it's the British spelling.  That's the Queen's official birthday (not her actual birthday), and it's the day she comes out to the big arena that used to be a jousting field, and her soldiers pass in review. 

Sadly, it costs a ton of money to go.

Not-so-sadly, it costs absolutely nothing to stand at the side of the road and watch all the soldiers, the royal guests, the royalty, and the Queen parade down to the arena.

Needless to say, we were delighted!

Actually getting to Buckingham Palace was a pain.  Everybody and their dog seemed to be going the same way.  This picture is from the top level of a double decker bus.  Those are the stairs in front of me.  They're surprisingly hard to navigate, because the bus driver never seems to wait for you to reach the top before he starts driving again.



This is Buckingham Palace!  That big fancy flag on the top is not the Union Jack.  It's the royal standard, and flies wherever the Queen is currently living or stopping or going to church.  At the moment, she's staying in this palace, so they fly her standard.  It has the harp of Ireland, the red lion of Scotland, and three yellow animals that I later found out were leopards.  Turns out three gold leopards were the ancient symbol of the kingdom of England. 

Most places along the route were three or four people deep, but Miriam and I found a place right behind five darling little old ladies.  It was absolutely ideal - we were tall enough that they didn't block our view at all, and they knew everything that was going on, providing a running commentary that was better than radio or TV coverage.

I've seen British soldiers in movies, but I always thought their formality was exaggerated, and their puffy hats made it hard to take them seriously.  Well, I was wrong,  All these soldiers are actual military, and lots of them have served tours in the Middle East or other places.  The hats - well, I still think they look like olives, but I also love them dearly.

Also, it seems the higher the rank, the bigger the hat.  Look at my pictures and see what you think of my theory.

Oh, this next bit is my favorite.  We'd been standing by the barriers for ages, and then the soldiers started marching down.  They stopped directly across from us, much to our delight and the delight of the ladies in front of us.

Then they started marching towards us.

The picture was taken while they were on the other side of the road, but they got close enough that we could see the whites of their eyes.  Yes it was a trifle intimidating, but I set my feet and my jaw and thought of my Revolutionary ancestors, who faced down the redcoats in 1776, and I followed their example.



After they spaced out along the road, we waited for ages more.  Every sort of policeman imaginable was scattered around, keeping guard or talking on their earpieces or looking important.

Eventually another officer came along with a sort of walking measuring stick shaped like a compass - the kind you draw circles with.  He shifted each soldier, some as precisely as six inches.  The one American lady among the five in front of us thought that it was very fussy, but the rest of the ladies (all British) thought it was lovely and very impressive.  I waffled between the two points of view.

Then there was more waiting.  At one point I heard a lot of cheering, and thought for sure the Queen must be coming.  I - was wrong.

You'll never guess.

It was a squirrel.  The poor thing was running for dear life down the middle of the road.  It couldn't go to either side, because it was too frightened of the people lining the street, so it ran straight down the middle of the parade route, to the cheers of the populace.



As we stood and waited, more and more soldiers came down the road.  Each set of soldiers was preceded by a marching band.  In between, there was nothing.  No floats or balloons like American parades.  We just stood and waited.  And like I've noticed, British crowds are very quiet crowds.



I have to admit, it felt more than a little strange.  The closest thing in my experience to this is the Fourth of July parades I've been to - all of which celebrate our breaking away from this country.  At home, I cheer the soldiers in blue, and the soldiers in red are the ones we defeated.  Here, the ones in red are the heroes.  It was - different.

The marching bands were very good.  Five or six went by, none of them playing anything I recognized.  My favorite was the band on horseback, but sadly the file is too big to upload here.  This is one of the foot bands though!

Not all the soldiers had the big fluffy black olive hats.  As you can see in the next picture, there was a variety.



Every so often, royal guests would go by.  I didn't know most of them, but the ladies in front of us did, and gave a running commentary that we cheerfully eavesdropped on.  I did know these next ones though!  The picture is very blurry, but it's Camilla, Kate, and Prince Harry. 

More royal people.

I actually almost missed her.

There was hardly any cheering, except for a few tourists.  Not even as much cheering as the squirrel got, though I don't think it was for lack of respect.  There wasn't any additional fanfare - it was just Queen Elizabeth II, riding in a carriage down the street.  Her husband rode with her, and behind her on horseback were her son Prince Charles and her grandson Prince William.



I saw the Queen!  I saw the Queen!  Of course I took a video. 

Afterwards, we walked by Buckingham Palace and got another picture.  You can see the aftermath of the crowd behind me.

 After that, we ran some last-minute errands, and passed this highly patriotic pub, called The Churchill Arms.  I wonder if they have to water all those flowerpots, or if it rains enough to keep them alive.

 That evening, we went on the London Eye.  It's a huge Ferris wheel that stands on the shore of the river Thames, and turns so slowly that a round trip takes a half hour.



 Rather than the normal Ferris wheel seats, riders go in these space-futuristic-looking pods.  They're larger than they look, and you can walk around inside and look out over the city.

 

 We went just before dusk, so we could see the lights.  Actually, you have to go through more security to get on it than you do to see the Queen march by.

It was kind of funny.  The security guard said, "Do you have anything sharp in there?"  I promptly told him, "No," as I opened my bag.  Lo and behold, there was a plastic knife, pointing blade up, straight out of my bag.

We both looked at it for a moment.

"Um, only plastic?" I finally said, and he laughed and waved me through.

 Looking up at the wheel.

 

This is just as we got started.
 

 And here's coming over the top.



 This is me with Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament.  Actually, you can see it in almost every one of my pictures from here.  I think it must be one of my favorite buildings within sight.

And here is a brief tour.

It was quite dark when we got off, and we walked back over the bridge to the tube stop.  We couldn't help stopping though, and looking over the water.  The air was cool, but it wasn't too cold, and the breeze was just blowing.  Our last real night in London - we were very late getting back home.

That was the point I realized I would miss London when I left.




But what a last day!

Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, where have you been?

I've been to London to look at the Queen!

Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, what did you there?

I frightened a little squirrel* under her chair.

*Poetic license taken.  Original word is mouse.