“Is it Harry?” asked the American tourist beside me outside Westminster Abbey as a police-escorted Range Rover drove through the gates soon after 10.30am on Friday morning, excitable sirens blaring. It wasn’t the elusive Harry. It was his brother, Prince William, joining their father and stepmother, who had arrived half an hour earlier, for another coronation rehearsal.
Within the Abbey, the most famous throne in the world was being prepared for the arrival of the 40th monarch to be crowned there tomorrow; the ancient oak Coronation Chair. Behind barriers on Abingdon Street, on the Abbey’s south side and away from the pomp and flurry of its famous Great West Door, were thrones of a different kind.
“Mobile Thrones. Luxury Mobile Toilet Hire”, declared the lettering on the green portaloo truck, topped with its spindly gold crown logo. This Essex-based family-run operation has supplied past high-profile events, including Ascot and Newmarket Races, and the Henley Regatta. They can now add a coronation to their list.
Australians Jo and Marcus Paparella, from Adelaide, were sitting out on a corner near Trafalgar Square, where they have a view of the Admiralty Arch. “It’s once in a lifetime event,” Marcus said. They did not come especially for the coronation, as they were already on holiday, but they decided yesterday to buy the chairs for £12, and sit up in them all night tonight. “Being Australian, we’re used to camping out in the bush,” Marcus said. “This is nothing compared to that – here we have street lights and a shop beside us.”
The Paparellas chose not to camp on The Mall, unlike the hundreds of others who have set up their ad hoc tents there. A tourist attraction in themselves, their occupants wearing plastic gold crowns, glittery tiaras, and Union-Jack onesies, they are the quintessence of British eccentricity, stoicism, and something more complex to define; a kind of visible, dogged, bullish pride in a monarchy many of their compatriots do not now share.
Vicky Maidment from Bishop’s Stortford, Hertfordshire, arrived yesterday. “I’m here because it’s part of history, and it’s history I can be a part of,” she said. Maidment is a Scout Leader back home to 16 six-eight year-olds, called Beavers, and she had brought along their scout mascot, a bear called Bearamy.
“He has his own Facebook page and a TikTok,” she explained, as she carefully sewed a coronation badge on to Bearamy’s blue jacket. “Every week the Beavers take him somewhere for an adventure, and once in a while, the leader – me – takes him somewhere too, for a special adventure.”
Aishah Siddique and Marlon Rees were standing beside the striking life-size crown they had created themselves, which was displayed on a purple velvet plinth. The crown was composed entirely of materials sourced in Britain. “Tin from Cornwall, granite from the Yorkshire Dales, slate from Cardiff, stones from Brighton Beach,” Siddique incanted.
They are calling it the “Non-Colonial Crown”. Siddique points out that although the infamous Koh-i-noor diamond has been removed from the crown the Queen Consort will wear tomorrow, the 105-carat stone still remains in royal ownership. The Indian-mined stone was controversially acquired by the British Empire in 1849. “We want to make history right, and see the Koh-i-noor is given back to its rightful owners – India,” she said.
The two similar-looking women standing in St James’s Park, both wearing black leggings, white sneakers, red tops, large coronation rosettes, and both smoking cigarettes, turned out to be twins. This was the 13th time Amy Kitching and Shelley Creighton-Kelly had camped out for a royal event. “We’ve been doing this since we were eight, starting with Fergie’s wedding,” Kitching said.
They arrived yesterday with Creighton-Kelly’s two children, Amelie and Abel – also twins, and aged eight; the same age their mother and aunt began their royal pilgrimages. “Last time we came, it was the Queen’s funeral, but this time it will be a lovely, celebratory party,” Creighton-Kelly said.
