Back in action: THE WEDDING.

Armed with a shiny new computer, revived internet access and a borrowed camera (Mom's), I am ready to face the blogging front once again!  First things first: The Royal Wedding.

Viewing screens at Trafalgar Square.

Assuming I’m allowed to anthropomorphize a nation, I would say that England went clinically insane on Friday.    My personal plan of camping out in front of Buckingham Palace was thwarted by an ill-timed illness, but compromising previous design with present disease, I went out with a group of American students around 8 am to scout out a viewing venue.  I’m not sure what the coverage was like in the U.S., but that best way I can describe the Royal Wedding was that it was a day of sheer joy and unification for England (and technically the rest of the UK and Australia, though I’m not sure they’re as keen on the monarchy).  Everyone was ecstatic, and when I say everyone, I mean it.  Anywhere except Central London was a ghost town.  It is impossible to capture how massive the crowds were without an aerial camera, but believe me when I say: the whole nation came out to watch. 

Marching band on The Mall.

And truly, it was a beautiful wedding.  We couldn’t help but get caught up in the madness/happiness as well.  I suppose it might be as simple as seeing two, beautiful, rich people who are in love get married.  But our hearts pounded a little faster when we saw Prince William drive by on his way to Westminster.  I might mention that this was about all we saw happening live, as even by 8 it was impossible to get a good place on the parade route, so afterwards we watched it in classic English style: in a pub.  The English love a good pint (one exceptionally inebriated man had a magic wand he kept waving at the TV screen) so I will leave to your imagination the kind of drunken riot that ensued when the newly dubbed Duke and Duchess of Cambridge kissed for a second time.  Oh.  Boy.

Near Gearge VI monument on The Mall.

We Americans inevitably commented on the irony of a nation unifying over their previously abhorred monarchy.  But I guess it’s an interesting lesson, seen in much of Europe:  once the monarchy doesn’t actually have power, they just become celebrities with nothing else to do but use their inherited coffers for the good of (concilliating) the people.  The fact that the UK is called a “constitutional monarchy” seems comical considering that they have no constitution and their monarchy has no power.  But, on Friday I finally saw that even though the monarchy has little political weight, the nation (again, I can only speak for England here) hangs onto the title of “monarchy” because they love the tradition.  As for why it’s called “constitutional,” well, I got nothing.



Caught up in the craziness!



We even got interviewed!



Everyone was thinking it.