Sometimes, the little things are the most momentous.
It is about 25 minutes on the train from Woking to London. We alighted at Waterloo; there was a holiday atmosphere. All the roads were closed for a bike race and brightly coloured cycle kits were whizzing by, support teams in their cars, and we felt excited, as we crossed Hungerford Bridge and heard the bustle.
The journey from Embankment Station to Big Ben can be achieved by hugging the riverside, or by ambling through the park.
It was Sunday and the sun was shining, we chose the park, where the great bronze politicians stood at ease in the greenest gardens. Centuries old trees had their branches supported by wooden supports. The pigeons networked, and their vacuous joy was infectious.
London can charm the birds out of the trees, on the right day, in the right light.
We threaded through the tourists on a mission. We’ve always passed Westminster and never gone in. Today was London Open House and we were set to join the queue which traveled in an orderly fashion beneath the gaze of Cromwell’s stout swarthy bronze, into the ancient seat of power.
Half an hour’s wait, they said, so we got out our lunch and munched contentedly, for there is so much to see as you stand at Westminster: the gargoyles, the bronze statues, the abbey, the traffic, the tourists.
And then, apropos of nothing in particular, a spitfire flew over Westminster. Everyone ooh-ed and aah-ed, and Phil told the children they must listen to the sound: there is nothing like the distinctive sound of a spitfire.
We all listened, and were inclined to agree. It swooped and dived and generally dazzled.
We clanked past a jovial Westminster security team. If they were meant to be stern they were confounding their job description, mollycoddling the children and asking us about our day and how far we had come.
And then we were through: walking out onto the hallowed turf of New Palace Yard, craning our necks to get the best view of Big Ben. There was another member of security. Incongruously, he carried a weapon and a huge grin, and I will tell you until my dying day that the grin cancelled the weapon out.
A sharp right turn bought us to the ancient part of the site- Westminster Hall.This was the hall built by William Rufus to inspire universal awe: and almost one thousand years later, it still does just that.
The hall’s great arches were built by carpenters to last millennia for the glory of a monarch. This was a hall to end all halls, a place which saw the trials of Guy Fawkes and Charles I, which saw feasting and conflict and debate and powermongering. Its owners have been myriad, but they all went by the name King or Queen or Protector. In the stone flagged floor are brass plates which note some who stood here: Elizabeth I, George V, Charles I, Elizabeth II.
It is the centre of so many moments of power in a country which has itself been pivotal. More so than the two Houses, the events of a thousand years seep through the walls. We stood there and gawped like four mediaeval serfs.
And onwards and upwards: we trailed into the 19th century additions and the lobby, to find that the two Houses were closed. Instead the protests of tourists were headed off by staff bearing freebies: House Of Lords bags, pencils, post it notes, mouse mats. Mollified, everyone loaded up and trailed back through the building to linger once more in the great hall.
And then we exploded back out into the brilliant sunshine, which shows the colours of this palace off to such advantage. We pottered past the Abbey and along the river to find a final treat awaiting us.
Westminster Bridge is a busy thoroughfare. To cross it is to dice with some of the most fearsome traffic London has to offer. And yet, although the cycle race was long since finished, today it was closed to cars.
Pedestrians milled contentedly around, veering from bus lane to main traffic route simply because they could.
We could not believe our good fortune. We stretched out, we filled the space and finally, Phil said: “Why haven’t I thought of this before?”
And he sat down in the middle of the road.
The children were delighted and joined him. And I took my Nikon and I clicked for all I was worth, a shot which will surely stay with us for the rest of our lives: Felix and Maddie and Phil stretched out in the middle of Westminster Bridge with Big Ben in the background.
And then, satisfied, we headed for home.
Kate Shrewsday 
Sounds like a great day out. I’ve never been to Westminster Hall. I think you might have invented a new collective noun: ‘a protest of tourists’ 🙂
It’s an entity which can instil healthy respect in many a London official, Earlybird 😀
Fabulous!
I grew up with armed police and soldiers walking about the streets; I’m not sure any of them ever were confident enough to smile- young guys feeling like walking targets. Hard to know who was the most scared, then. 😦
Not a good time for either party, Speccy. I wouldn’t look at that armed policeman in the same way if I had grown up with your experiences.
Sounds lovely. I really have to make it to your country one of these days.
Look me up if you do, Connor!
It’s nearly 25 years since this Aussie last visited London and how I enjoyed re-visiting the city today through your eyes. I recall touring the Houses of Parliament and standing in Westminster Hall during the UK leg of a family journey around the world in 1970. I also sat in on a session in the House of Commons in 1973 – or was it 1981?? Anyway I would love to return, but the financial markets these days would deem otherwise. Love the blogs each day. Many thanks and keep writing.
Hello Mary! Thank you for this lovely comment: great to know you follow regularly. You have one up on me: I have never sat in on a Common’s session. That is on my list for this winter!
How fabulously wonderful – stunning day out and about (including co-operative weather). The historical significance of your piece of the world is such a huge drawcard for me and mine 🙂 🙂 By the by I found to my horror that my red beast took 221 pics of the birds yesterday – major weeding required 😮
Great day out, what a privilege to visit Westminster Hall, and the cherry on the cake sitting in the middle of Westminster Bridge.
Thank you, dear Kate, for such a lovely day that you share here. How remarkable to be standing in such a great hall with all of its history around you, above you, and under your feet. Gives me goose bumps just thinking about it.
Lovely shot of the Spitfire and good to see in your skies in peaceable times.
The bike race was the final day of the Tour of Britain, Kate! I’d love to have been there watching the human missile Mark Cavendish clinch the sprint. Glad it had the wonderful spin-off effect of traffic-free central London for you.
I liked the “protest of tourists” as a new collective noun too. Compensatory freebies always irresistible 🙂
A mouse mat freebie with the aura of Westminster to mollify the protests of tourists – priceless!
I journeyed vicariously with you all, imagining the history beneath your contemporary feet – an ancestral connection with your belongingness that we European immigrants can’t claim on the North American continent.
Thank you
Your post reminded me of something I treasure, a Flip video I made while sitting on a bench in the park next to Westminster Abbey, starting at Big Ben. The clock chimed, and I decided to film it, because then I could visit London whenever I liked, right? It didn’t work that way exactly, but it captured the sound of the city – the lilt of the language, the skateboarders, the traffic, the footfalls – as a picture never could.
Now, if I could just sit in the midst of Westminster Bridge……..such great imagery. 🙂
Wonderful outing ~ the bikes, the open doors, the spitfires, the grins on gargoyle’s and guards, and the pedestrian only bridge!
FAB!
What a brilliant thing to do, Phil!
Reminds me of the time we did a cycle ride on the yet to be opened M40 – a mass of cyclists on the new tarmac in a never to be repeated event!
What a wonderful post, Kate. And such a special carpe diem thing that Phil and your children did – how lovely! I went to Westminster for work a few months ago, and it was awe-inspiring, although I didn’t have too much time to stop and soak it all in.
Thanks for sharing your day – and I so miss your writing; I don’t get to read much at all these days, but I will try and get to your blog more regularly, it’s always so worth it! Love it, love it!
Sunshine xx
Sunshine, thank you. I miss those wonderful Sunshine posts but so happy that this job is taking you on all sorts of adventures: including Westminster! Wow!
I haven’t been there for so long that I’m sure Charles I was on the throne at the time 😉 Sounds like you had a great time.
Certainly did, Martin 🙂
Poor (security) man, I suppose he was forced to carry the gun – it must have been some grin, though, to cancel out the weapon entirely. As for Phil, I get the impression he’s just a big kid – lucky you! 🙂
🙂 Everyone was in such a good mood, Ruth: I’m sure they were meant to look stern but there was just this irrepressible good humour wherever we went. A good day was had by all.
Fabulous outing topped with a most wonderful picture..loved that one ~
Thanks Angela. Photogenic, those spitfires…
Thanks Kate. Your blog first presented itself to me via wondering about the nuns sitting in the Abbey at the recent Royal Wedding. Someone sent the answer to my sister, who sent it to me…. Since then I’ve been receiving each one with great pleasure. Love the word pictures and the general observations on your life and family. Four rescued kangaroos, eight cats, a corgi, a rabbit and five hens make up my family. I have been to the UK four times, but not for many years. My sister worked there as an agency nurse for 18 months in the 1970s. Best wishes to you all. Mary
Sounds like a magic day, Kate & family! Would love to see that pic on the bridge, especially coming from a Nikon 😉
I’ll pop it on FB, Naomi 🙂
More people should pay attention to the great historical sites on their doorstep and not leave them to foreign tourists. Loads of fascinating places to mooch around in London. I feel privileged living near enough to visit.
I totally agree, Paul. I never used to go: and then when kids came along I needed somewhere to escape and London was perfect. You can’t walk for thirty yards without seeing or reading something momentous.
I’ve only been outside, Kate. One day, I’ll get to visit properly, for the feeling of history if nothing else! Sounds like you had a great day out!
You never know, Tom: when you get inside the Great Hall you might recognise it…
Possibly, Kate… you never know!