Thousands of Britons line the streets as Queen Elizabeth II is transferred via gun carriage from Buckingham Palace to lie in state in Westminster Hall. Video / Getty / The Royal Family
I'm getting the feeling that if I need to go anywhere, for any reason, near anything to do with the Queen's farewell, now is the time to go.
Or yesterday.
Now the late monarch's body is back in London, carried off a Royal Air Force Globemaster C-17 by her ownColour Squadron after the enormous military transport aircraft landed at RAF Northolt early on Wednesday (NZT), there's more disruption, more barriers and generally more mayhem in the Queen's home city.
Buckingham Palace and the Mall, roads on and around both closed all week, have become progressively busier all week as locals and visitors flock to the British monarchy's home base.
A worker carries a heavy-looking Crown to go on a lamp-post on The Mall, which leads to Buckingham Palace, as part of the farewell events for Queen Elizabeth following her death. Photo / Cherie Howie
At Green Park, a short stroll across which ends at Buckingham Palace, streams of after-work palacegoers hoping for glimpse of Queen Elizabeth's coffin after its arrival in London were instead met by a 2m-high iron wire mesh fence.
"You needed to be here at 6am", a security worker yelled at those hoping to be at the palace when the coffin arrived about 8pm on Tuesday local time.
"That's when people started coming down here. You showing up at half seven [pm], no chance."
I'm among the tardy and hear myself asking, rather pointlessly, if there's any other way to get near the palace.
Her image is everywhere - in windows, bus shelters and big screens, and usually accompanied by cliched tributes that remind me of the endless references to "unprecedented times" we endured from any business or organisation with a mailing list during the first Covid-19 lockdown.
Flower hawkers have set up near an outdoor memorial to the Queen. Photo / Cherie Howie
Down at the floral tribute, a hundred stewards zipped up in fluoro vests head one way, as bouquets mushroom by the second the other way - helped along by hawkers parked up nearby.
"Lovely flowers for the Queen", yells one parked in a camping chair next to buckets of red, white and blue offerings.
"Three for five quid."
London sisters Jill and Lynn Hurley haven't come with flowers. Just memories, and a sense of duty to not just their late Queen, but their mum.
"Our mum wants us to say a prayer", Lynn Hurley says.
"She can't get here. She's 85 and she loves the Queen. She's devastated."
It's pouring down now, but no one moans.
East Londoner Sarah Stafford has her hood up and her grin fixed.
She proudly shows the Herald a photo of her mum meeting the Queen when she was awarded an MBE for services relating to the creation of the Millennium Dome.
With her crew of young relatives huddled around her, Stafford's still buzzing after seeing the monarch's coffin driven past as they were walking along Park Lane minutes earlier.
"People in bars came out, people in hotels were standing on their balconies. It was amazing."
Sarah Stafford with a photo of her mum, Theresa Stafford, meeting the Queen. The East Londoner was delighted she had a chance to see the monarch's coffin being driven into London. Photo / Cherie Howie
Like most of us, her life's very different to that of the former head of state.
But that doesn't matter, she says.
"I love the Queen. She just feels like your Nan, don't she?"
