I start this blog by asking a question that most of twitter asked on tuesday - how was your bank holiday?
‘Good, but the weather could have been better’ is the response I’d expect, as that’s the most typical reaction I’ve had, not that I’ve made a pie chart about it or anything. I swear!
I spent the bank holiday like the majority of the UK; eating charred sausages, drinking pimms and hoping for the sun to come out. I also spent sunday on the banks of the Thames feeling smug and justified by wearing full sailing attire. As a nation, we excel at standing in one place for long periods of time, and I felt proud to be part of this grand tradition, and I could feel this national pride circulating my body the longer I stood in the wind and rain. Or cramp, it could’ve been cramp.
My excuse for going down was to experience the atmosphere, and see something that hadn’t occurred on the Thames for centuries. So, what was the atmosphere like? Mostly, it was good natured and friendly, with more flags than you could shake a stick at and odd attempt at warming souls with God Save The Queen/Rule Britannia doing the rounds, albeit with the enthusiasm standing for 6 hours in the rain brings with it.
When the flotilla eventually came, it really was an impressive sight. The boats, the colours, and the shear magnitude of it was worth seeing in person. The Queen’s barge was truly impressive, and absolutely massive to behold, and I managed to get a good view of the Royal’s as they waved at us. I think Kate gave me a cheeky wink, but I can’t be sure.
Then, predictably, the rain came. So like any sensible person, we sought shelter in the local cafe and reviewed the day, and then trudged back to the train and back home, for more pimms and blackened sausages.
Just like the Queen, I imagine.
