The Royal Wedding

I've tried writing about this occasion several times. The first attempt mutated wedded bliss into a perspective on modern day feminism. The second began with my scepticism about the crowds that were to be expected and delved into a recent run in with your average London footpather. Today, I intend not to succumb to the random stream of consciousness that I normally embrace. 

Londoners love to moan and the city appeared to be wishing the worst brand of unhappily ever after upon the now Duke & Duchess of Cambridge. Complaints about the transport disruptions, excessive media coverage and overall extravagance of the affair ran rampant. Every mention of the impending nuptials was dripping with disdain for weeks, maybe even months! Until something very strange occurred...

Stop. Switch. Flash. Scene. Frown. Upside down.

I can't explain exactly what happened, but the winds of change blew through London as the bunting went up. Whether induced by exhaustion, curiosity or belief in fairytale, London gave in to romance this week. Genuinely happy to be hosting the wedding that the world was watching (3 Billion viewers worldwide!), you couldn't escape a conversation without discussing wedding day plans - Where to watch, which street party to attend and how magically the bunting was draped across the city.

Sure the wedding meant that we all received an additional bank holiday which produced 3 long weekends in a row, but it was more than that. London recognized the romance of the occasion and led a celebration that the entire world admired from afar.

The crowds were more massive than ever, the police presence was heavy, but I felt absolutely elated by the genuine happiness and good humour demonstrated by everyone on the streets that day. London was hosting the largest wedding reception in history and it was a day that I'll never forget.

Congratulations to Wills & Cate!