Proud to be British

However British you may be, I am more British still.
~ Henry Thomas

We caught the ferry the night before and arrived in good time. Marcus wanted to camp outside. I said to him it was never going to happen, not in this weather.

We slept on the floor of Simon’s apartment that night. Four of us on the hard wood floor, up until two in the morning, drinking Jack and reminiscing about our university days. At eleven the next morning, we arrived at Embankment.

As we stepped off the bus the rain started. “A typical bank holiday then,” Ciara said and I shrugged.

It was impossible to get a good view of the Thames. I cursed Simon for not booking a riverboat. But looking around me, I knew that we were not the only ones who couldn’t see and that made me feel better. We walked from Embankment past the Strand and Somerset House down to Blackfriars. I envied the crowds standing on riverside apartment balconies, overlooking the Thames. I envied those dining in the Oxo Tower.

At noon, with still no place to stand, we found somewhere for lunch. Just a burger joint. But they gave us hats like crowns and free cups of hot tea. The Jubilee spirit was in the air, everywhere around us. As we headed back towards the river we could see that the crowd had swelled. The atmosphere was electric. We were pretty far off when the Spirit of Chartwell carrying its royal guests passed us by. We were cold and we were wet but we were proud to be British.