I am a little behind with this review on a momentous day for the UK, as sad news from home had us dashing back to Australia before the last string of flags had been removed from park railings across London. Nonetheless, it was a day worth recording…
My head is still trying to catch up with my body as I wander through English woods awash with bluebells. Can it really be three and a half years since I was last here? We landed at Heathrow in March, in sleet and snow, only to fly south the next morning. Two months on, and Spring has sprung. Pink blossom, golden daffodils and polychromatic tulips fill flowerbeds, tubs and verges. The skies are blue, and by midday I am basking in warm sunshine. Yet, before I know it, we will be shooting back to chilly days and chillier nights in the wintry southern hemisphere. It all seems surreal. But I have more on my mind than the weather and bluebells. It is part of a grand plan to be in England for the Coronation…
Unfortunately, on the day that Charles III is to be crowned, the sun has chosen to take the day off, and the sky is weeping upon London and all the crowds lining the streets to watch the parade. Oh well, never mind. After all, every one of the last five coronations was blessed by showers. Rain. It’s what England does best.
Bunting has been strung up through the streets of London, flags are flying, and Royal memorabilia is flooding the shops. Surprisingly, much of that memorabilia depicts the late Queen, as manufacturers try to clear their over-stocked shelves. Apparently, Australia is talking more about Republics than Royalty, but today I’m not listening. While inherited power may be a thing of the past and tradition has become a dirty word, there are good things to be said about it that are being swept aside in the stream of negativity about all the terrible, unforgiveable things done by our predecessors, for which we must be endlessly contrite and apologetic. Tradition does not have to be all about negative connotations, overbearing empires or historical blunders, to be dismissed as shameful or embarrassing. Tradition can also be about gathering people together and creating unity. Ironically, current ‘woke’ beliefs often seem to be more divisive than unifying. ‘This is the right way, therefore the rest of you are wrong!’ A modern slant on a sense of self-righteousness that is as old as the hills.
Tradition can provide us with a sense of continuity, which in this era of fast and constant change, may bring some of us a sense of comfort, and a connection with our past. It can also provide us with a sense of belonging. And although most of us might agree that inherited positions of power should not be indulged, let’s briefly contemplate some of the positive things about this particular Royal Family’s inheritance. It’s celebrated faces sell a zillion magazines and memorabilia galore, and its beautiful palaces and ancient castles attract many millions of tourists each year, for which the British economy and the Treasury vaults must surely be a little thankful. Not to mention all the work that this philanthropic family does for the welfare of others. OK, there have been mistakes, some of them beyond embarrassing. But perhaps people in glass houses shouldn’t through stones, for after all, is there any family in the world that can claim to be perfect? And the mistakes undoubtedly sell more magazines…
Meanwhile, while I may not be pressed against the barriers along The Mall, my hair dripping damply into my eyes in the unquenchable mizzle, I have found my own sense of belonging. Sitting before a fire, surrounded by friends old and new, we toast the new King with lashings of champagne and Coronation Spirit, avidly watching the parade on a large TV screen and wearing almost-real diamond tiaras from Clare’s Accessories.
The crowning of King Charles (not ‘coronating’ America!) is the first Coronation this century. Part of an ancient tradition, the glorious spectacle that accompanies this historic event is something the British have earned a reputation for doing extremely well. Kings and queens have been crowned in Westminster Abbey since 1066 – almost a thousand years. And each piece of Royal regalia we see today has had a role in Coronations past and present for generations. That includes the 17th Century Jewelled Sword of Offering which is being carried by the first woman ever to do so: Penny Mordaunt, Leader of the House of Commons.
As the Diamond Jubilee State Coach – which was built in Australia for the late Queen – makes its way down the Mall towards Admiralty Arch, the Coronation Quiz lies disregarded on the kitchen table. At breakfast time we could answer a mere handful of the 100 questions. By dinner time, after listening carefully to the TV commentary, we will be experts about all manner of Royal trivia. (Although I still can’t find an answer to why those beautiful Windsor Greys have bright blue braids.)
Now, we watch as invited guests enter Westminster Abbey, attempting to name every member of the Royal Family, major and minor, the odd foreign dignitary, our favourite celebrities. Who wouldn’t love to be among them, in a front row pew? Yet, they have been pouring into the Abbey since breakfast time, and will have to wait for hours until the King and Queen arrive and the service begins. And thanks to the expertise and superior position of TV camera crews, we actually have a better view of the proceedings than most of those enviable and well-dressed guests, who are trapped on hard seats that are likely to be a million miles from the nearest loo or a glass of champagne. And, unlike those standing in Hyde Park, watching it all on giant screens, we are warm and dry.
In my youth, I was happy to venture into London with a milk crate, and stand shoulder to shoulder with thousands of strangers lining the streets for the wedding of Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson. These days, I am not so fond of crowds, and definitely prefer a few home comforts to standing in the rain. I might wish later that I had braved the crowds and taken my place in the Mall, as I did in 1986. Certainly, the atmosphere at such close proximity to the parade is electric with excitement. But after all, from our front seats by the fire, it is much easier to reach the champagne. And the loo. So, here’s to Chaz and Cami. And ‘God Save the King!’
*The man on the right was providing commentary in sign language for the deaf.