Jolly Jubilee

So where were you for the Jubilee, then?  If you made it to London, congratulations.  The cameras lingered so lovingly over so many wet people at the water pageant, it was difficult at times to see who was on the river and who was in it.  I think my favourite moment of all was when the choir passed by on the final boat, all singing their hearts out lustily.  I’ve never seen any group look so drenched.

All in all, I was quite glad to be home and watching it on the telly, but it did mean enduring the BBC’s mind-numbing commentary where the biggest collection of Z list celebrities in the world fell over themselves to tell us a) it was raining b) it was the Jubilee.  Errr... we’d sort of gathered that.

The concert was, as all these things are, odd, none odder perhaps than Grace Jones hula-hooping through her song (don’t ask me what she sang:  I was waiting for the hoop to drop.)  All came good though, with Rolf Harris leading the crowd in most of Two Little Boys and whoever thought of having Madness on the roof was inspired.

I don’t know how the commentary on this Jubilee matched up with the previous one, because we were there ten years ago, and it still ranks as one of my happiest memories.  London became a big party town.  Cars and buses were banned from the centre and pedestrians rambled happily everywhere.  Perhaps the abiding memory is of being part of the gigantic crowd in the Mall.  We made it up to Queen Victoria’s statue where big screens helpfully had the words of songs such as Rule Britannia and Land of Hope and Glory displayed.  The crowd were amazing.  No pushing or shoving, just thousands and thousands of happy people all there to cheer and wave.  Wonderful.