To the Tower with the scoundrel and don't spare the horses!

"Good afternoon Mr Brown", said the friendly policeman as he handed back my passport and invitation at the main gates of Buckingham Palace last week. "Just follow that lady with the pink hat over there and go through the central entrance". As Jacquie and I walked across the Queens courtyard towards the Palace doors, my stomach churned for a moment and I began to feel a tear welling up inside. It was indeed quite an emotional experience. Reading the pages of The Royal Garden Party website it states that guests are invited because of their good works in the community.

 Thousands had been there before me, thousands have received an invitation to the Royal garden party, but I was the first of our particular line of Browns ever to enter through those gold trimmed gates and I felt honoured to be there. 

Security was tight and with very good reason, the gardens were packed with the great and the good from all over the British Isles and beyond. Marksman lined the rooftops of the Palace, the constant hum of nearby helicopters, always just within reach in case of trouble, were always just far enough away so as not to be too much of an intrusion. There was, of course, no trouble whatsoever but with every major Royal present, ex Prime Minister John Major, cabinet ministers Liam Fox and Patricia Hewitt and bundles of a,b,c and d list celebrities too numerous to mention, the Yeomen of the Guard certainly had their work cut out.

We walked arm in arm, Jacquie and I, onto the Queens lawn, ( Judges report read "a bit raggedy at the edges, well worn but with very few weeds") bathed in glorious sunshine which lasted throughout our stroll around the extensive gardens. It was reminiscent of a scene from a Sunday evening Georgian drama series, with all the cast in their finery, genteely meandering along the myriad of paths that appear to criss-cross the Palace grounds, occasionally exchanging a smile, a nod of the head or an unspoken "How do you do" as they passed like ships in the night. 

"Look at that Hydrangea!", I said to Jacquie, "My goodness that's beautiful.... it doesn't have any perfume but the colour is astounding". It was bursting with flower and fresh new buds, all of them capable of re-use as thousands of cuttings, but dare I pinch a cutting from the Palace gardens?. "Off with his head !", I could hear the cry coming from the judges bench. "To the Tower with the scoundrel and don't spare the horses !". 

After a final lap around the lake we arrived at the tea tent, just in time for tea and cakes and of course, cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off (we all knew that we'd be getting those didn't we). 

The band of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards played their triumphal, rabble rousingly patriotic tunes from a nearby marquee as we queued for our tea but....just before we reached the front the music stopped, everyone went deathly silent and turned away from the table which groaned with the weight of the food, "It must be the Queen", said Jacquie just as the National Anthem began to waft across the lawns. We stood, as did everyone else, in deferential silence, like human statues turned to stone before the Emperors gaze.

In a few moments the National anthem finished and we all relaxed again. The Queen made her way down the steps of the terrace and across the lawns to the Royal enclosure, stopping and chatting to her subjects as she passed. Half way along her path through the garden the heavens opened and we were all treated to a right Royal soaking, but it didn't really matter, nobody really minded, we were just all so happy to be there.

FROCK WATCH.......report............

The Queen wore a brilliant green two-piece outfit with a matching hat. The green theme was followed along with a see-through, wrap-around umbrella, which sported a matching green stripe along the bottom edge.

 Charles, Philip and Edward wore traditional tails and the ladies, Camilla, Sophie and Princess Anne wore cream, blue and magnificent ice green colours respectively. Young Pippa Middleton was there as well with her parents and she too looked as much at home as the rest of the Royal entourage in a short, dark blue flowing and billowing skirt that was, untraditionally, above the knee and showed almost no sign of that now, world famous bum.

Separated by a red rope, the two parties, the Royals and the Commoners took their tea and chatted politely until, at 5.50 the Queen left to a rapturous applause from all of her guests. It really had been a wonderful afternoon, three hours in the very heart of London and it felt as though we were hundreds of miles away from the hustle and bustle of city life.

 We were told beforehand that we couldn't take cameras with us and that mobile phones had to be switched off before entering the Palace grounds, but at five minutes to six, as we made our way back to the terrace and the doors that led to the real world beyond, we couldn't help but notice that almost every one had their phones out and were taking photo's in the grounds. "I may never get another chance to visit this garden", said one very well dressed chap standing next to me, " We have to leave the Palace in a little over three minutes and I'm sure that they won't kick me out now and anyway, how can they possibly confiscate all of the 'phones, or delete all these photos, they'd be here all night".

Yes, we took photo's inside too, but they're a bit too blurry for publication. As for the cuttings.........did we get any?..........well, that would be telling...... you never know we might just get asked to the Palace again.