As someone from right outside of Philadelphia, I know a thing or two about parades.
Super Bowl parades, the 6abc Dunkin’ Thanksgiving Day Parade (older than the Macy’s Parade, by the way) and the Mummers Parade that many people haven’t heard of but has become a Murphy family tradition to watch with a bowl of Buffalo chicken dip on New Year’s Day.
Philadelphians love a good celebration in the streets — sometimes to the point where law enforcement has to “grease the poles” to prevent people from climbing them in their fits of passion.
Parades instill a sense of fierce camaraderie in people from a city like Philly. It’s a free invitation to yell and cheer as loud as you want, potentially drink a little too much and dress up in insanely elaborate outfits or obscene t-shirts with your closest friends and family.
For a brief moment in time, everyone is unified for one common purpose.
So naturally, when I heard that I’d be here in London for Trooping the Colour — The King’s Birthday Parade, I knew I had to go.
Not only was it a chance to see the famous red-coated London Guards in action, but also King Charles, Queen Camilla, Prince William, Princess Kate and their children.
The prospect of being mere feet away from royalty was enough to make my roommate, Sophia, and I drag ourselves out of bed on Saturday at 6:30 a.m. to get ready and head to the tube station towards Green Park.
We arrived outside Buckingham Palace around 8:30 a.m., two hours before the parade start time, and there was barely anyone there. We were genuinely shocked and were sure we’d be fighting our way through a mob.
But that meant we were essentially on the barricade with a full view of the Mall and Buckingham Palace. Sophia and I purchased mini Union Jack flags from a pleasant older fellow for only 2 pounds each, and were ready to wave them as the royals passed us.
During our two-hour wait, people slowly filed in behind us and chatted quietly amongst themselves or listened to music in headphones.
I was honestly a bit shocked by this — at home, there would’ve been some light singing or chanting involved to ease the wait time and a beer or two shotgunned.
But no, the British stood patiently.
The parade started at 10:30 a.m., with drums sounding and trumpets blaring as the London Guards marched down the Mall in respectful celebration.
A Swedish man with a large camera standing next to my roommate and I alerted us, “here comes Charles and Camilla,” after a few minutes passed.
There was no screaming, no throwing objects, no pole climbing as the King of the United Kingdom rolled by calmly in his carriage.
He was followed by Prince William on horseback ahead of Princess Kate and the children in another carriage.
Sophia and I were the only ones in our section with flags, so we waved them frantically and cheered as the carriage rolled by.
This got us direct eye contact and a wave from Princess Kate.
I was absolutely starstruck. How could I, someone born over 3,000 miles and an ocean away from London, receive a direct wave from a princess? And why was I feeling such love for a country that wasn’t mine?
I think it was a mixture of how I was raised to love a good parade celebration, but also the fact I got to experience something abroad that I thought would be so familiar, only to learn it’s much different in London than it is at home. And it wasn’t a bad thing.
While Londoners still showed up to snap pictures and have a good time at the King’s Birthday Parade, I learned that Philadelphians are just built differently when it comes to street celebrations.
My Philadelphian passion and ability to cheer freely were enough to make a royal notice me in a crowd.
Here’s to many more parades inside my city (hopefully a World Series one sometime soon).
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There are 272 underground, aka “tube,” stations across the sprawling city of London.
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