The Queen visits Chelmsford
“I know why you’re early today!” said the man in Costa as he poured my latte this morning. “The Queen!”
It was just before 7am, and his sentence confused me, tired as I was. “Too much sleep over the bank holiday weekend!”, I replied honestly, still feeling guilty that I didn’t get out of bed yesterday for anything other than food and drink breaks.
“No,” he replied with a smile on his face, “the Queen is here!”
I glanced around the coffee shop looking for any royal presence, wondering as I did so just how many royal protecting sniper rifles were aimed at me.
“The Queen visits Chelmsford today. She’s visiting the Cathedral later.” my barista turned royal correspondent continued, “are you going to go and see her if you have the time?”
“No,” I replied, “I doubt it.”
To be honest, I didn’t have an answer. Only a couple of years ago I got up at silly o’clock to witness the Olympic procession go through the city, and I wasn’t especially over bothered about that at the time either.
So why, when the ruler of our nation is going to be just a few hundred metres from my front door, am I not bothered by seeing her? There’s no real reason. I’m not an anti-monarch, though I’d be pushed to be described as pro-monarch either.
When I see the word Queen I normally picture a four-man group fronted by Freddie Mercury rather than the woman whose face appears on pieces of metal that congregate at the back of my sofa.
Two busy roads have been closed off in the city centre as Chelmsford waits for the royal visit. The knock on effect will no doubt be more traffic, slower travelling times, and probably a couple of minutes on one of the two local news stations (London and Anglia) who rarely cover the city as we are technically outside of their limits.
Other than that, I doubt that the royal visit will bring anything else to us. So thank you, Ma’am, for visiting. Thank you for granting us City status a couple of years back. No doubt we’ll see you again in a decade or so.