Buckingham Palace in Mourning
The nation was in mourning.
Right outside of Tottenham Court Road station were the two large tribute signboards for Queen Elizabeth II’s passing. One featured the prime of her life while the other was a more recent digitalized photo. The LED screens around the city displayed the Queen with her iconic smile, and every flag was raised midway as a tribute of Her Majesty’s passing.
I was lurking around Chinatown in Leicester Square when I received a call from my father. He suggested I could witness the historical moment of mourning. Conveniently located down the street, I began my journey of walking to Buckingham Palace.
Paying Tribute at Buckingham Palace
The moment I reached Trafalgar Square, I lost my sense of direction in this crowded area with walking travelers and cars. Despite the confusion, I followed the crowd, heading to the grandeur arch entrance opposite the mighty lions’ gaze. Turned out my intuition was correct.
The gateway brought everyone to The Mall (That was an interesting name for a street), a long path towards Buckingham Palace. People of all ages still insisted on walking down the extensive road to pay tribute to the Queen, with bouquets of fresh flowers in their hands. International news media had arrived to broadcast the event, with the anchors supplying snapshots of the grieving nation in the middle of the street.
There was a young artist who painted Buckingham Palace in grey tones, reflecting the mood of the day. Some halted their hasty feet to examine the resemblance of the picture to the actual building. He must have stationed here since morning, painting stroke by stroke to capture every detail of the palace.
“Fantastic art,” I said, a simple compliment which encouraged him to finish his masterpiece.
The Mall is not only a road for vehicles and pedestrians, but it is also an important lane for the royal carriages. The grassy, semi-dried horse dungs on the street forced me to move to the side lane, avoiding the cluster and poo simultaneously with a rewarding view of St. James Park.
At the end of the street was enochlophobia’s worst enemy - a massive queue of mourners in front of the palace desperately pushing themselves forward to leave their blessings in front of Buckingham Palace’s main gate. Some had given up waiting in the insane line. They camped around Victoria Memorial, leaving their gifts around the feet of the bronze anthropomorphic figures and their lions. Even the ever grim-looking Queen Victoria did not mind a couple of people sitting beneath her throne.
Swimming through the sea of visitors, I secured my spot at the memorial with the benefit of a full course view of the entire scene. Taking out my phone, I prepared myself to take a picture-
BAM!
Gunfire shot from nowhere. Everyone fell silent. Even the dogs had stopped barking. The next gunfire followed, then another one, then more shots from one corner of the palace. It seemed like someone had triggered a time freezing bomb; everything was still and quiet except for the gunfire.
It gave me the opportunity to transform back to my 12-year-old self when I first visited Buckingham Palace. My mom and I were in the crowd, watching the Changing of the Guards. The red foot-guards marched around with their ridiculous tall hats on, which I once mistaken for their uniform hairstyle. There was a roaring cheer, not for the guards, but for an incoming black carriage heading towards the gates. It took me seconds to figure out the people in the carriage were the Queen and Prince Philip. I had missed their faces, only glimpsed their backs.
Take a Break at St. James Park
The next course would be St. James Park, a breather from the solemn mood. The lush green contrasted the grey and white tone like the artist’s painting. Autumn flowers bloomed among the aptly trimmed bushes, and fallen leaves gathered underneath trees. Most ducks and swans swam across the chilly afternoon lake, while some hid beneath the drooping willows.
A bladder emergency stopped my peaceful trail, and my priority target shifted to the toilet. I found one near a refreshment point. The entrance was barricaded with automatic payment gates, which only can be opened via contactless payment. Most entered easily with a card or phone payment, while some were not lucky. A couple of tourists asked a janitor if they could pay by cash, since they did not have the convenience of a local payment card.
“I’m sorry,” the janitor said unapologetically. “We don’t accept cash at this point.”
All the fuzz for a 20 pence toilet entry.
I mostly find the absolute contactless payment troublesome. For locals, this makes payment easier and more hygienic during the pandemic era; for foreigners without a local bank account, it can be awkward when the shop rejected cash payment. Credit cards work but come with the cost of conversion charges. This new system sounds unfair to international students or visitors who have brought along an amount of cash waiting to be spent.
Amid the serene park, a group of dangerous gangsters lurked around. The pelicans took over the benches of the park, attracting spectators to witness their illegal gathering. The leader showed off its long beak, a weapon ready to poke any unsuspecting individuals. His minions obstructed the pathway, almost shoving the visitors into the lake. I remained cautious towards these gangs of birds, otherwise I would suffer from their mean beaks.
After escaping the pelicans, I rested on a bench near the park’s café. A quarter of the London Eye surfaced from one corner of the park, slowly rotating the gondolas. I sketched this picture on watercolor paper, only the lines and its basic structure. I would only color the artwork if I found the time to do so.
Walk to Big Ben
Inflation killed my joy in buying a soft 99 flake.
When I first visited London, my mother would take me to one of the desert vans around London. Her recommendation was the soft ice cream, with a chocolate flake protruding out among the snowy hills. She claimed it was one of the best ice creams she had in her life.
Near Trafalgar Square there was a bright red van that sold this type of soft serve. I had escaped St. James Park’s refreshment stands, hoping to look for a cheaper alternative. This van sold one for 3.50 pounds, instead of the generous 2 pounds I used to know. My head went numb at this astronomical price hike, but for nostalgia’s sake, I bought one. Then, I snapped a picture of the treat and showed it to my mother via WhatsApp.
I love this, she replied, charmed by this old friend of hers.
When I told her the price, she was stunned.
The taste was not as appetizing as I remember. Could it be the overtly sweet ingredients within? Or was it the fact it was too soft that the ice cream almost melted under the sun?
With one dissolving ice cream in my hand, I headed south towards the river until I reached the entrance of the Golden Jubilee Bridge. If I went further ahead across the river, I would reach Southbank. I had reserved South London for another day. So, I went West instead to look for what I wanted.
Voila! The Big Ben and the House of Parliament in gold. Many tourists stopped and admired these recognizable city icons, taking pictures from various angles. With foreigners came souvenir stalls along the Westminster Pier, selling many teddies, shirts, and this furry toothed monster from the horror game Poppy Playtime. This is also the spot where people waited for the river cruise, which I would join in the Summer when the Boreal wind stopped blowing into my face. I could have walked to the London Eye right opposite the straits, but the evening sky was calling me to go back home.
Take note that River Thames around this area had a pungent smell. I did not know if it had been like this since the Great Stink, or was it just the drunkards’ urine?
Date of Visitation: 9th Sep 2022
Trafalgar Square
Address: Trafalgar Sq, London WC2N 5DN
Nearest Station: Charing Cross (Bakerloo/Northen Line)
Buckingham Palace & St James Park
Address: London SW1A 1AA
Nearest station: London Victoria Station (Circe & District/Victoria Line)
Westminster Abbey
Address: 20 Deans Yd, London SW1P 3PA
Nearest station: Westminster Station (Circe & District/Jubilee Line)