The Cattling- Royal Wedding part 2

Go here to read part 1.

Arriving into London, I was finally able to admit to myself that I was just no good at reading the graffiti tags on the concrete walls of King's Cross. I felt bad for Carlos. He obviously made an effort. Ruth agreed, saying that trying to read them ends up setting off a collectible migraine in her head.

The heat in the Underground was wholly unexpected. As was the huge pram. They really do exist still.

Entering the Underground warren, we heard on the PA system that the Westminster stop was closed. Victoria was going to have to be our best bet. 

At the top of the exiting stairs of the Victoria stop on the Underground, Ruth bought two flags, one for each of us, for £1.50, and I quote "from a helpful Cockney. They do exist!" No Cockney rhyming slang from him (dammit) as he gave her directions for the best route to Buckingham.

We walked from Victoria to Buckingham. In the back of my mind, I was simmering on the idea of kettling. I didn't want to get caught in an area where I wouldn't have freedom of movement if I chose to have it. 

Mainly, this part of the morning consisted of waiting and jockeying for and advantageous position.

What happened instead was "cattling". Like cattle, savvy? We were stuck in an area along Birdcage Walk. There was a lady, accompanied by a younger man, who was freaking out and shrieking at the top of her lungs. She was upset because a policeman told her that she couldn't cross there but she could cross the street at the other opening (where I was, along with 4,000 other people) but was unable to do so because the policeman at the second, other opening wasn't letting anyone cross. 

"I have to get across. I have to get across! I can't stay here! I don't have to wait!"

I eventually had enough of her piercing babbling striking my eardrum. I mean, she was RIGHT NEXT TO ME! "Lady, they ain't lettin' anyone of us cross, you hear?"

Yeah, when I'm irritated, the redneck SE Okie comes out. Thank you Pontotoc County.

Crazy lady calmed down and I saved the day and my ears.

And then the band and Irish Guard began their deal.

And then the cars...

After the dignitaries left Buckingham Palace and the hotel down the street, we decided to walk to Hyde Park. More cattling...

As we were leaving Birdcage, a couple of camera girls with a real TV camera (!) asked us if we saw Kate in person... I was not quick enough to remember my minimal improv training...the first rule of which is "ALWAYS SAY YES!" 

"I saw the car go by..." hopeful wistfullness evident

Their eyes had already swept beyond me to new potential interviewees, "Okay, thanks anyway!" 

DAMMMIT!  I coulda been a contendah...

Walking to Hyde Park was like herding stock into a slaughter house. I even had to negotiate a deadly chain with spikes a la mace.

See? Evidence right there in the road just how similar we were to stock.

But they made us go the long long long way around. Couldn't go back the way we walked in. Ended back up at Victoria station. There was a Sainsbury's right there, so we got lunch. I had a Turkey, Bacon, and Gruyere sammich and some Baked Cheese and Onion chips... the real chips, not fries.

During the course of the day, I tried to photobomb as many pictures as I could.

Probably my most favorite picture of the day. The juxtaposition of the tourist along with the  front page pictures of the happy couple...while the background has all the alcohol. Pretty much sums up the day.

And then I was introduced to Pimms No. 1 Cup...

Not the best picture, really.

It looked like tea but it tasted of royal tiger blood awesomeness. Based on gin, it has English style lemonade or Sprite if you want to get similar and chopped fruit and mint... Ours had strawberries, lemon, and oranges. This is my new favorite. I was pleased, Ruth was pleased, the people outside the restaurant who were selling it were pleased; we were their first takers! Poor things, bless them...

The park event attendants were yelling at us passers-by to keep to the path  because the grass...and other stuff. Eventually, you just gotta ignore the petty and nut up. I walked on the grass. They said nothing to me.

Sure was pretty though.

Big screens!

Yeah, at this point my phone battery died so, no more pictures until I got back on the train where you can access outlets. That's right, I was organized. I brought the phone charger. Well done me.

We watched the ceremony and the leaving from Westminster Abbey on the big screens. Then sat and played cards while waiting for the balcony kiss. Ruth tried to teach me 'Patience', I taught her how to play 'HoDog'. 

Not many people dressed up like we did... we had a lot of glances and random people taking our picture. This one lady, either she was French or Turkish I don't know, but she walked up to us...

"I make photo with you?"

"Uh, whut?"

"I to take a photo with you?" 

"Um...", glanced at Ruth, who shrugged. "Sure! Why not?" Really, why not? We were waving the flags wildly and wearing tiaras and the Kate masks at that point. 

We were very close to a TV camera crew who were interviewing a couple who had just got engaged, then and there. I did my best to photobomb. Did I do okay?

Balcony kiss time! And I missed it. GOTTVERDAMT! I'd been sneezing all the darn day and sneezed at the very moment they smooched. Luckily, they kissed the second time which I didn't miss. Huzzah.

With the excitement over, we made our way to Harrod's. I bought treats for the punkins at home and fended off a crazy saleslady who wanted me to buy a single serving of caviar for £26. What a letdown. I thought I was getting a taste test.

...to be continued

      ...because you definitely might want to see the aftermath of my day in London. I got punchy with Kate on the train...