So the Queen's birthday is in April, but because it's good to be the queen, she gets to decide when to celebrate her special day. So in a bid to avoid downpours, she has elected to hold the
Trooping the Colour in June instead (left). As the beneficiary of a July birthday that got little recognition during my school years, I was surprised that such a spectacle would be held in the summer, especially because of the heat. Luckily, the weather this year was cloudy and mild, so despite their big, fuzzy hats, members of the
Queen's Guard could keep their cool (right). I didn't see a single one faint from dehydration or sunstroke, which apparently has happened during previous celebrations.
The ceremony starts with all the guard regiments "marching on" from
Buckingham Palace down the
The Mall. I managed to find a good vantage point from my seat on the stairs next to the
Institute of Contemporary Arts, where I could watch the parade on the tablet of the woman standing in front of me (left). Technological documentation abounded, and even police officers were helping out, encouraging the crowd to wave at a picture-taker (right).
All the regiments are ultimately headed for the
Horse Guards Parade, which I could barely spy through some trees full of patriotic schoolkids (left). This year, one cute kid who got to meet the Queen was
socked by a soldier, but if you want to see better-behaved troops, you should watch the
BBC video of the full ceremony. I couldn't completely distinguish all of the troops, but some of the last to pass were the Life Guards, the senior regiment of the British Army, who stood out because of their red tunics and white plumes (right).
Absolutely last in line for the parade is the
royal family. Prince Harry was seated in a carriage with Duchesses Kate and Camilla Parker Bowles (left). Hubby Princes William and Charles weren't with them because as colonels of the Irish Guards and Welsh Guards, respectively, they were on horseback. This year, the Welsh Guards had the honor of presenting the final colours to the Queen because it was their 100th anniversary. The Queen rode by just a few minutes before 11 a.m., the precise time she is appointed to reach the grounds (right).
At this point, I took my leave because I couldn't see the actual ceremony, and afterward, the parade basically is repeated in reverse. I decided to toast the Queen with a pint at
The Ship & Shovell, the only two-part pub in London. I enjoyed a
Badger First Call, a traditional English ale, in the northwest portion, which has continuously operated as a pub for 220 years (left). The southeast portion is 330 years old, but it has only been a pub for the last 25. One pint didn't seem enough of an honor, so I headed to
The Harp, which promotes itself as a "craft-beer pub" (right). Indeed, I was able to sample
Hophead by local
Dark Star Brewing Co.; the beer was quite enjoyable, but it wasn't even close to hoppiness level of some "Hopheads" I've had in the States.
While I downed my two beers, I gleaned a little about British pub culture. No matter how small the actual bar -- the one at The Harp was about 10 feet long -- there will be multiple bartenders behind it. And they are needed as soon as the magic hour of noon hits; seriously, The Ship & Shovell was empty until 12 p.m., when at least 20 patrons flooded in all at once (yes, this means I was drinking before noon; don't judge). Feeling slightly more educated, I stepped out on
The Strand, one of the main streets in the
West End Theatre District, just in time to see the
Royal Air Force Red Arrows shoot overhead. Apparently, the air show usually is more elaborate, but this year, it was limited because of the low cloud cover.
I took a short stroll through nearby
Trafalgar Square, where people presumable more tipsy than I like to act as if they are riding its iconic lions (left). The square is full of statues of people on horses, but I particularly liked the skeletal equine on one pedestal:
Hans Haacke's Gift Horse, commissioned by the London mayor to replace a statue of William IV on horseback in front of the
National Gallery, which is on the north end of the square (right).
I had planned to have some pub food along with my pints, maybe a
chip butty or a savory pie, but no one else was eating, and I didn't want to be culturally inappropriate. So as I headed back to the Tube, I stopped at
Herman ze German for a filling chiliwurst and frites with curry sauce (left). With the suds soaked up, I strolled along the
Victoria Embankment, from which I could view the
London Eye (right), before hopping on a train home.
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