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Paul Hobbs in Westminster Abbey - Source: ONE News
I didn't think I was going to make it!
It was looking bleak when the copper at the intersection by Westminster Abbey said "Did that officer let you jump over the barrier? Go back to the entrance to the barrier and go around the pathway"!
My official email said to be at the south entrance to Westminster Abbey at 9am.
I had completed my live cross at just after 7am along the Mall and wandered along the growing crowds lining the procession route. The mood was joyous and infectious. I pulled out my media access pass to the broadcasting compounds and popped in to see Wendy Petrie and Executive Producer Peter Stevens in the Westminster Abbey studios. These are just over the road from the Abbey.
Everyone was in great spirits - all a little tired (for me just two hours sleep that night) but the big day had come and of course my highlight to the historic occasion was just hours away. I was one of just three journalists from the Realms to be invited into Westminster Abbey for the royal wedding ceremony of Prince William of Wales and Kate Middleton. There were about twenty or so British journalists invited. No internationals we were told, but ten days out from the wedding, I got phone call. Prince William had decided to invite one journalist from Australia, one from Canada and one from New Zealand. I was nominated to be New Zealand's representative.
8.10am and I thought it was time to get over the road to the Abbey and find my way to the appropriate door. No ticket yet but I had an official email from Prince Charles' press secretary asking me to bring my passport for identification - a ticket would be issued at the door.
I asked a policeman at the barrier where the entrance door was and how I could get there. He went to see his superior and they directed me to the officer at the top of the street, 50 metres from the front of the Abbey.
This when my stomach screwed into a tight ball. Go back around the footpaths! It was packed. No way around there and I still had to get across the road. I needed escorting from the police and my lifelines seemed to have dried up. I think I used some biting language, expletive-free but loaded with sarcasm. And then thought "now what?".
"Go ahead to that officer. He has another guest who has lost his way. Hurry up around that corner. The officer with the hat on" said another bobby. They've all got bloody hats on I said, more than a little agitated. I dashed around the corner wearing my black Zambesi suit, new white shirt and tie which I feared were going to be sweat stained and possibly blood stained if I couldn't make it.
Then the very type of policeman that my mother always said was there to help, emerged. Ricky, the lifesaver and reputation saver. Talking up your invite to the wedding of the century on TV and then failing to get in would have been not an egg-in-the-face moment but a village-stocks-bombarded-by-rotten-tomatoes moment.
With us was Lord Whatever His Name Was all the way from Scotland. He too will love Ricky all his life. We were escorted along the procession route, past the front door of the Abbey, past the machine gun toting Met hardmen, past the banks of TV cameras and screaming fans (all taking photos of us thinking we were special. Lord Whatever His Name Was probably was).
We got to the main guest door where all the real guests were going through security scanners and that's where LWHN was dropped off. Ricky took me further to my entrance where I nearly resorted to kissing an man in gratitude. I got my ticket, took a few deep breaths and a few photos with the two other female journalists from the realms, Paola from the Sydney Morning Herald and Liz from a Toronto newspaper. I met Tony Parsons, the author and journalist who was also going in. That was cool enough. One of his books "Man and Boy" made me cry in a number of places.
There would be bigger stars inside.
We entered Westminster Abbey through the tradesman's entrance. Through the security scanner. Then when I could hear the organ music I knew I was close. No doubt feeling like Alice did as she entered Wonderland, I floated into the exclusive world of royals, celebrities and just all-round flash folk that a boy from Linwood High School in Christchurch should never thought they'd be in the company of.
Our group of media hacks was escorted through the dizzy array of people and it suddenly dawned on me. I am walking down the red carpet. This is where Kate Middleton (probably someone else who once upon a time never thought mixing with this lot was possible) would be walking down. And it's a long way. Usain Bolt might be able to do it in about nine and a half seconds but the walk down the aisle in the Abbey dodging the rectangle at the top adorned with poppies was long and laboured. It was mildly comforting to see that I didn't step on one poppy and a flash guy in tails stepped on the lot. I momentarily felt smug.
OK these people are friends and they don't get a view and I'm still walking towards the front. The next area there was the choir and more seats and I'm still heading further forward. Hell, I thought, am I sitting next to the Queen?
We turned right just at the royal seats by the Altar - past the seats from his Excellency of some eastern land, past the Sultan of Somewhere Else.. probably Swing. And then came to our seats. About 30 metres from the altar and with a clear view to it. What happened to that "restricted view" seat I expected - the one you always seem to get when you buy discount tickets to London's Westend shows. Poets' Corner it's called. I was next to the monument stone of Edward Atkyns who died in 1750 aged 79. That's a good age for that period I thought. I thought most people died at about 45 in those days.
I had a TV screen a row in front of me so I could watch all the action from the TV broadcast. The stuff you would see. I was feeling even more special now.
The first thing that struck me was that everyone was wandering about chatting and smoozing like at a party. What is it about the fact that when I go to a wedding we all politely take our seats and wait patiently and more importantly quietly for the bridal party. That's how well-mannered people were brought up I was told. No, it felt like I was at the reception rather than the wedding ceremony. Man, there was a 30 to 40 metre queue to the only toilets in the Abbey. Fascinating fascinators ago-go. There's Chelsy Davy, Harry's on off girlfriend. Should I say hi? It's not like I'm going to see her again. Oh no the Sunday Express reporter tells me there's a minder with her. Oh, there's Tara Palmer Tomkinson with a nasty caved in nose. It collapsed I'm told due to the cocaine abuse and all the plastic surgery couldn't fix it. Nice! And I know also on the guest list was Kate's uncle Gary who was caught in a newspaper sting selling cocaine in Spain. What was this - a pharmaceuticals' convention?
I spied John Key's seat. Not in yet. Zara was there with Mike Tindall. Her turn next. I walked up to the Queen's seat. I paced it out. Four paces opposite to Carole Middleton's seat. All those hundreds of years of aristocracy, royalty and social class structure now just four paces separating them. And brought together by a marriage. I was told that the Queen isn't at all snobbish. (I wish she would smile more).
Time to take our seats. By the way I sneaked off some photos on my iPhone. I wouldn't have because that would be rude and we were told we shouldn't but all the other guests were whipping off a few so heck when in Rome (or the Abbey)....
I watched William and Harry arrive on the monitor. They seemed almost overawed that all these people, the crowds of screaming fans were here for them. They looked like they were playing "dress-ups" in their uniforms. Kind of cute in a way. William was smiling and nervous all the way up the aisle and then he disappeared from the monitor and appeared in front of my own eyes. I knew that this wasn't a fake movie type dream. I was there and so was he. Doing the rounds chatting to a few relatives and dignitaries. Didn't quite make it to the media section though.
We were being drip fed press releases from the 2 media minders assigned to us. Sheets of typed A4 information handed around being devoured and tweeted out. Again we were told to be discreet but when the ceremony started it was a tweet free zone. Is it blue duck blue or grey? Yellow or daffodil? These questions whispered and discussed among the reporters deciding whether the expert designers had got the description right of their own work compared to the assessments of a handful of journalists.
Collective ooohs and arrrs when we saw the little flower girls.
Then for the first time I could hear the roar of the crowd inside the Abbey. Kate soon to be Catherine arrived. She looked stunning and I have had lengthy discussions with a bunch of NZ rugby journos on the All Black tour to the UK in November. Some felt she was a babe. I thought she was a little cold. I have warmed. She looked beautiful.
I saw Harry bobbing up and down at the altar alongside William. William starring ahead. I could see his Adam's apple twitching. He was gulping and swallowing. Nervous for sure. What was that rascal Harry up to. And then it happened. He turned around and snuck a look at Kate walking towards them down the aisle. Surely not. Again you don't do that. But he did and told William what he saw. Priceless. Where's that Mastercard?
William proved not to be disappointed.
Look it's very easy to be cynical. Royals... smoyals. They suck up taxpayers' money. Anachronistic, outdated(are they one and the same thing?) aloof, you know the stuff we all say. Egalitarians that's what we are but spend half our lives sending our kids to better schools and buy better cars and property than our friends so that we can feel superior. Oh that's ok but we should all be equal when it comes to the monarchy.
Well New Zealand isn't Britain and they have had a monarchy for a thousand or so years. It is part of their way of life. It is history. It is their reality. We lament the loss of historic buildings in Christchurch. But we're quick to call for the binning of British history. Maybe we should be a little slower to condemn.
I'm a dollar each way on it really. But this wedding was part of world history. It was traditional as you might expect from such an ancient institution. But it resonated. The couple seem genuine, sincere and in love. What more can you hope for in a rejuvenated monarchy and it has been rejuvenated.
The music in the Abbey was sublime following each development on the procession, each entering of a new character in the drama. It brought many goosebump moments.
I thoroughly enjoyed it and even forgot about the Breakers and their quest for history in Auckland.
As soon as the service was over, I sat in my seat as the other reporters filed out. I watched the royal couple on the TV monitor returning to Buckingham Palace and then I joined the villagers from Bucklebury who i met a fortnight earlier when I was there on a story and we snapped off souvenir photos. Why didn't I bring my camera after all? The iPhone would have to do. I then texted the kiwi fellas from the RAF fanfare team who played at the ceremony and we met at the altar. I'll meet you at the altar - isn't that what you say to a future wife? Yes it was a strange day.
We went outside the Abbey and I found Jason Hull, my TVNZ cameraman, in the crowds and got around the barrier and we did our interview.
Yes officer, he went over the barrier.
Strolling back around the procession route we witnessed the flypast and then went through the Mall and had an ice cream.
Not a bad way to finish a morning.
What did you think of the royal wedding? Have your say on the messageboard below.
Read more Paul Hobbs' opinion here.
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Add a Comment:
Post new commentWils said on 2011-05-03 @ 19:19 NZDT: Report abusive post
What a great article Paul, humourous, entertaining and a great story. I would be giving you an 'A' for English at Linwood College (am a teacher at your old school)
KiNaGirL said on 2011-05-02 @ 11:39 NZDT: Report abusive post
Hey Paul, Thanks for the good read :) you made me laugh a few times , What an honour to be where you were sitting in the Abbey that day haha. The Royal Wedding was off the hook, they so suit! Really happy for them both and wish them long life and happiness. I have mad respect for Prince William & Prince Harry, they have their mothers heart caring, giving, down to earth nature :)
maggie-bop said on 2011-05-01 @ 13:15 NZDT: Report abusive post
Such a cool word picture! I'll be reading more of this man's work for sure. Thanks
nixheravkotiro said on 2011-05-01 @ 08:35 NZDT: Report abusive post
Kia ora Paul, Enjoyed your little blog here. You're very lucky to have been selected to be the journalist representing New Zealand well done. What an inspirational story. Despite adversity you were still able to get into the Abbey as you did. I would have been spewing (absolutely upset). Good on the bobby that did help you out. Really enjoyed your blog though.
deansstand said on 2011-05-01 @ 08:19 NZDT: Report abusive post
it was enjoyable reading your article, thus reliving the royal spectacle and the happiness on everyones faces.