Day Eight: So Long, London
Today is a bittersweet today. It's my last day in London, but also features one of the most exciting events - Trooping the Colour. For context, Trooping the Colour is extremely difficult to get a ticket to. I had entered the lottery for a chance to purchase a ticket a while ago but had been unsuccessful. It was only by chance a few days ago that a ticket came available and I snatched it up.
Fortunately, because of the RASC Conference, I did have appropriate attire for the occasion. However, UK weather being UK weather, rain had been forecast and the email regarding today's event had been very explicit in telling us not to bring umbrellas. This is why I spent time searching for a raincoat the other day. So after being all dressed up at breakfast and checked out of St Monica's (they kindly said I can keep my bags there and get changed when I return), I handed over my Quokka Mug as a thank you for their hosting (the original sister who had helped me had left, so it became communal) and went off on the bus out to the Horse Guard's Parade Grounds.
Fortunately, because of the RASC Conference, I did have appropriate attire for the occasion. However, UK weather being UK weather, rain had been forecast and the email regarding today's event had been very explicit in telling us not to bring umbrellas. This is why I spent time searching for a raincoat the other day. So after being all dressed up at breakfast and checked out of St Monica's (they kindly said I can keep my bags there and get changed when I return), I handed over my Quokka Mug as a thank you for their hosting (the original sister who had helped me had left, so it became communal) and went off on the bus out to the Horse Guard's Parade Grounds.
The weather was already looking a little classic London grey when I arrived. I was fairly early which meant it was very easy to make sure I got a program. The guards were also selling what looked like little Christmas baubles but I later saw people pulling little red ponchos out of them. From there I just followed the crowd of well dressed people, noting quite a few umbrellas that were definitely not confiscated
 |
| Got my program, got my seat |
The whole system operated very smoothly to finding your seat. If you ever felt a little confused, out of no where a guard would appear and help you out. The real novelty was the way the seats were numbered. The young guard who was responsible for our section would tell patrons on their arrival that the number for the row was positioned on the step above the one you would stand on to enter the row. He would even point and count them out so people understood. But they didn't. Someone thought I was in their seat, because they couldn't figure out the row - so they just sat wherever they wanted until they were kicked out by someone who could understand their tickets.
 |
| Formal, slightly damp, ready for trooping |
However, eventually everyone was in a seat (some may not have been correct, but no one was policing so...) and we were briefed on the protocol. Fortunately, I didn't have to know anything - the guard at the front would signal us to stand when we needed to stand and sit when we needed to sit. We were also warned that when we stood, to ensure out seats didn't snap back in one big group as the bang could startle the horses. So with all that information on board it was time for the ceremony.
The ceremony itself was fascinating. The precious and training of the soldiers, mounted and on-foot was incredibly impressive. It occurred to me during the ceremony was how expensive maintaining this military must be. Key highlights of the event were of course the arrival of the King, Queen, the Princess of Wales and her children; seeing The Prince of Wales, The Princess Royal and The Duke of Edinburgh riding as part of the ceremony; and of course, the mascot of the Irish Regimental Guards Seamus, the Irish Wolfhound. We stood up and sat down what felt like hundreds of times, and of course each time you could hear the snapping of the seats - thankfully the military horses are calmer than some I've seen around.
The ceremony itself was fascinating. The precious and training of the soldiers, mounted and on-foot was incredibly impressive. It occurred to me during the ceremony was how expensive maintaining this military must be. Key highlights of the event were of course the arrival of the King, Queen, the Princess of Wales and her children; seeing The Prince of Wales, The Princess Royal and The Duke of Edinburgh riding as part of the ceremony; and of course, the mascot of the Irish Regimental Guards Seamus, the Irish Wolfhound. We stood up and sat down what felt like hundreds of times, and of course each time you could hear the snapping of the seats - thankfully the military horses are calmer than some I've seen around.
 |
| Troops awaiting the arrival of the King |
 |
| King Charles and Queen Camilla arriving via carriage |
 |
| The Prince of Wales, The Princess Royal and The Duke of Edinburgh |
 |
| The soldiers marching past the King for inspection - the Princess of Wales watching from the window |
Right towards the end of the ceremony, the rain came and it poured with thunder and lightning. The gentleman who was seated next to me, who had attended a number of Troopings in the past, told me that attendees get priority access to the viewing areas for the balcony but in bad weather the Royals didn't come out (understandably). With that information in mind, and also because I was pushing for time to make sure I was comfortably on my train this afternoon, I didn't head down to Buckingham Palace, rather headed for the bus back to St Monica's.
 |
| Mildly damp - don't panic, my hat is safe under my raincoat |
At the bus stop, an older man started a conversation with me. It was...interesting to say the least. Amusing to me, as he pushed his political conspiracy theories and espoused the benefits of a conservative British government. I'm sure it all felt very important to him at a time of UK elections but as a citizen of a completely different country, it didn't matter to me at all. But I politely humoured him and then declined to sit next to him on the bus (although he did make a point to say goodbye to me when he got off.)
By the time I got off the bus, there was no rain and the sun was shining. News reports showed photos of the Royal Family waving from Buckingham Palace balcony - bugger. It was probably for the best though as I returned to St Monica's to get changed out of my now dry (but previously rained-upon) dress and raincoat and into more appropriate attire for the train.
A quick ride on the tube and I was at the famous King's Cross Station. I will admit, it wasn't quite what I expected. I had imagined it would look kind of like Central Station in Sydney, but the reality was a very modern foyer and surprisingly few platforms. I had a bit of time before my train was even available for boarding, so I ducked across the road for a quick Nando's - where I forgot that you had to wait to be seated and made a complete fool of myself!
After a spot of lunch, I went back to the station and had a bit of a quick look around. I had initially assumed it was so busy because, well it's King's Cross. But no, the massive crowd next to the Passenger Assistance Lounge was a queue to take a photo with the trolley sticking out of the wall at "Platform 9 3/4" courtesy of the Harry Potter store, naturally. However, and this is incredibly petty, "Platform 9 3/4" was located on a wall opposite Platforms 9 and 10, so couldn't have been 9 3/4, because it was before 9. That was my own personal nitpick and irritation.
 |
| So on the right, that crowd is at "9 3/4", but on the left are Platforms 9 and 10. It doesn't make sense! |
 |
| The trains are a little more modern than Harry Potter would have you believe |
The train trip itself wasn't much of note - mostly because I spent the time with my nose in my laptop editing photos from today, or trying to take a nap. I did glance out the window a few times and saw the seaside or rolling green hills. I know people say you can see Yorkminster and a few other notable castles and cathedrals, but I wasn't really paying attention (whoops.) I did, however, discover there is such a carriage as the quiet carriage (carriage H) and when the train neared Newcastle, I wish I had booked it. A group of four ladies got aboard and the accent was thick and the volume was loud. Fortunately they got off in Newcastle, so it wasn't the whole train ride.
I did also find it personally quite amusing that the train stopped at Newcastle and then Morpeth. Traveled all this way just to visit the Hunter Valley.
Getting off at Haymarket, it was a a short walk to my hotel. Along the way I noticed a lot of busy pubs, probably due to the Euros being on. I'd seen Scotland getting flogged by Germany last night, but football is religion in Europe, so who knows. The hotel itself was lovely - needed help with the self-check-in machine, but that wasn't my fault (system glitch). My room is actually really nice, big bed and the absolute bliss of a working shower. Definitely going to luxuriate in that after a week in a shower that needed a descale of the head.
With it being quite late, I went for a walk to the closest McDonald's (very touristy) for a quick dinner, which ended up taking me fairly into town. No time to properly explore yet, focusing on the mission for food because tomorrow is another early start.