We started the weekend looking for the start of the flotilla on Saturday. Unfortunately, the boats were starting to muster* in Putney. We were in Battersea...
After a refreshing beer and burger at Byron, we stumbled across our own flotilla passing Kingston.
We had a jolly time drinking fizz with Mr and Mrs B on Saturday night. Plenty of oo-ing at the scrummy Victoria Sponge complete with regal cake decorations.
Sunday was a blur of fizz, smoked salmon and scrambled eggs as we watched a very soggy flotilla on television, both agreeing that we had made the right decision to stay in our dry, warm sitting room close to necessary facilities and the fridge. Miss P was only interested in the butterfly cakes made for the street party.
On Monday we made our way to our first street party, courtesy of Mr and Mrs R. We learnt how to dance 50s style, marvelled at the cake competition, giggled at the Morris Men, sang the national anthem twice, drank more fizz, ate our way through a pile of cream scones and sausage rolls, and met the Mayor. It really was jam packed.
We got home in time to watch the Jubilee concert (Kylie, Robbie and Alfie were great, weren't they?) and then dashed out again just before 10pm to hot foot it to the river to watch the Mayor (twice in one day) light the Jubilee beacon on a river barge.
It was wonderfully tranquil sitting on the river bank, listening to the gentle lapping of the water and the bats darting about.
And today, we just pottered. A pile of washing to get through, a path to be weeded and leftovers to be eaten. All done with the final celebrations quietly playing in the background. What a remarkable bank holiday.
*new word for the month thanks to the numerous mentions on the BBC
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