Royal Wedding

In the days leading up to the wedding reactions from folks I spoke with ranged from “Splendid! So exciting!” and “Can’t wait to see the dress,” to “Grrr.”

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Near Covent Garden in London:  A building tied up in purple ribbon like a giant package. 

With a sign saying:

            Lady Magazine Wishes

            HRH Prince William &

            Miss Catherine Middleton

            The Most Happiest of Marriages

Wish I had gotten a decent photo, but I was on a moving bus!

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Several shops in Lewes had special window displays.  

Some private homes also had photos and flags.

The local brewery in Lewes concocted a commemorative ale in honor of the occasion. Harvey’s Royal Nuptial Ale features a quote from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream on the label:

                        Lovers, to bed;

‘Tis almost fairy time  

According to the brewer, the word bridal stems from the phrase bride-ale, a special beer brewed by families of Anglo-Saxon brides for the big event.  If you brought the couple a wedding gift, you received some beer in return.  

I bought some of the ale, and also couldn’t resist buying a commemorative bottle of Prince William champagne.

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Late that afternoon, I strolled downtown to see if anything was happening.  A local environmental group was hosting a “Royal Weeding” on a parcel of land they hope will be preserved as green space.  Harvey’s Tavern had a large crowd both in and outdoors.  Some folks in the crowd were wearing T-shirts proclaiming, “Thanks for the extra day off.”  Another t-shirt read:  “Harry, I’m available, by the way.”  A three-piece band (two saxophones and a guitar) was performing outside (it was too crowded within).  The band was, shall we say, enthusiastic, but not terribly good.  (I suspect they’d had a few pints of Royal Nuptial Ale.)

A little boy (age 2 or 3) and his dad were sitting in front of the band.  The boy was waving a British flag adorned with a photo of Kate and Wills.  “I wasn’t too excited about this royal wedding,” the dad said, “but she sure looked hot in that dress!”

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The next day (April 30^th), I attended a Royal Eggstravaganza, a “Spring Fayre” on a nearby green.  People of all ages were there.  The event was sponsored by a bonfire society, a local group whose chief purpose is to burn an effigy of traitor Guy Fawkes on the appropriate day in November.  (Poor guy!  The Brits have been burning him since 1605.)  I missed the tossing-the-bouquet and top-hat-throwing competitions, but I did enjoy watching the tiara-making and hearing music by The Ill Billy Eights.  They closed their first set with “She Said Yes.” Food was provided by the Vegetarian Alternative.  In other words, lots of meat!

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On a more serious note, commentators here emphasized how the celebrations combined the old and the new, cars and carriages.  Many thought it was a big misstep it was not to invite all the former prime ministers.  They also stressed that many of the military personnel guarding the route and acting as escorts had recently served in Afghanistan. Two BBC commentators noted the stark contrast between “those inside the abbey who rule us” and the multicultural nature of the crowd outside.  That was something that struck me too.