Of History and Royalty: My First Trip to London

06 August 2013

Found Love. Now What?

Since I don't have a hike post for you today, I will be linking up with Bonnie and Belinda for Travel Tuesdays! Below is the story of my run-in with the Queen during my first trip to London, which I alluded to last week in part 2 of my Reverse Bucket List.

My first trip to London, England was a whirl-wind haphazard affair. I was studying abroad in France that year, and two weeks before Armistice Day, one of my Oregon friends asked me and a few other girls if we wanted to go to London for our upcoming four-day weekend. I jumped at the chance as the prices were good and I wanted to see as much of Europe as I could. London was one of those cities I had always dreamed of seeing, as I have always had a fascination with British culture. 



The night before my friends and I left for London, I called home and spoke with my grandmother who told me to say hello to the Queen for her. Little did I know how close I would come to that during my short trip!

Our first morning in London was Armistice Day. We strolled about the town after a meager breakfast of toast and a petroleum-like jelly. The trees were lovely shades of gold and auburn and the early-November air was crisp. Lucky for us, the sky was bright blue. It was still early so nothing was open and we walked along a red tree-lined boulevard. At the end was some fancy building- was it the Buckingham Palace? No, it couldn’t be. We didn’t go up close to it- perhaps it was the South African Embassy. But as we walked up through the neighboring park and read a map, we had indeed bypassed the Buckingham Palace. I had apparently been more interested in gas lamps than the Queen’s London residence.


We soon made our way to wait in line for the National Gallery. I had a very deep interest in art history and therefore I could not leave London without seeing some of the most important paintings in Western Europe. While waiting for the museum to open, we were chatting quite loudly and the gentleman behind us joined in. We asked him if the Brits were on holiday as we were- I don’t recall his answer, but he informed us that there was to be a service at Westminster Abbey and that the Queen was to be in attendance. My friends jumped on this bit of information and asked me if we could perhaps go to Westminster Abbey instead. I was rather adamant about seeing my art, but we compromised- we would return to the museum as soon as we were done at Westminster Abbey. 

To get to the grounds of Westminster Abbey, we had to pass through security. I was terrified that someone would find us out- just a couple of silly American girls trespassing where they were not invited. Of course it was a breeze to pass through, but we were unprepared for what came next. All along the walkways were miniature memorials to all of the fallen soldiers, each soldier given a tiny cross with a red poppy (red poppies were everywhere that day). Old servicemen stood by the memorials in uniform, in honor of their fallen comrades. It was moving to see that though these soldiers had died long ago, their memory lived on.



Eventually, someone came over the loudspeaker and asked everyone to back away from the walkways. As everyone cleared the paths, the place became very still. Trumpets signaled a moment of silence. Then the Queen entered the grounds. I was standing very near to the door of Westminster Abbey, as close to the front of the pack as I could manage. The Queen made her way around the path, paying her respects at each memorial. My heart nearly stopped with every step she took nearer to where I stood. Finally, she stopped about ten feet in front of me. Ten feet! Never in my life had I thought I would ever be within ten feet of the Queen of England! The older British women next to me could not believe it either. I felt foolish and privileged all at once. How could three silly Americans who could not recognize Buckingham Palace come so close to the Queen of England? 


The rest of our trip was filled with more walking and sight-seeing (though not as much as I’d hoped). I did see my art, and how marvelous it was. I fell in love with a John Constable and was thoroughly intrigued by a depiction of Lady Jane Grey just before her execution. It is true that in London you cannot escape history and royalty, and in that first trip I enjoyed my encounters with both.

Have you ever stumbled onto something awesome? I'd love to hear from you in the comments below!
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