A cuppa with the queen

Issariya Praithongyaem

Special to The Nation

 It was a typical English summer afternoon, chilly and wet. Around 8,000 people from all walks of life started queuing in front of Buckingham palace on July 7 for the first of the three Summer Garden Parties hosted by the Queen of England.

 Just before 3pm the gates opened while storm clouds gathered.

 Garden parties have been held at Buckingham palace since the 1860s, when Queen Victoria instituted what were known as "breakfasts", even though they took place in the afternoon.

 From 1948 to 1958 there were garden parties twice a year, one at the palace and one at Holyrood House, the royal residence in Scotland.

 Now there are three a year at Buckingham Palace, seen - particularly since Lady Diana's death in 1997 - as an opportunity to have the "common" people around for tea.

The guests are, of course, carefully chosen: Local dignitaries, military men, judges, heads of charities and other persons of note consider it a great honour to be invited.

 Just as in Victoria's day, the queen joins the party at 4pm precisely. Beforehand the guests amble around the vast garden, complete with its own lake, a dollop of countryside in the bustling city.

 While doing so, the guests observe each other. The dress code is a subtle mix of formal and casual: floral dresses with elaborate hats for the ladies, business suits or sometimes tails and top hats for the gentlemen.

 Around 20 minutes before 4, the Yeoman of the Guard, Gentlemen at Arms and Gentlemen Ushers are milling about, looking more relaxed than serious but efficiently organising the crowd.

 People line up in front of the palace steps in two rows, chatting as the light drizzle turns into a heavy downpour and bursting into laughter when one of the bands begins to play "Singing in the Rain".

 Umbrellas pop open to protect the gorgeous costumes.

 Out of nowhere a large woman in a black dress pushes her way to the front row, ignoring the cardinal rule of British politeness - never jump a queue. "I wish the queen would say, 'Let them into my front room, they're getting wet','' she complains.

 Well, that's not to be. With military precision, at 4 exactly, the National Anthem is heard. The queen and Prince Philip stand on the steps.

 Her Majesty is wearing a turquoise blue dress with a matching hat, holding a black bag in one hand and a transparent umbrella on another. The rain suddenly stops - a miracle!

 The real duties of the British head of state commence. She descends the stairs and spends time talking to selected guests, three or four minutes each, gazing into their eyes, listening attentively.

 Never pronouncing a point of view, she asks them in detail about their jobs and other matters.

 Her Majesty thus informs herself about her subjects and the state of the kingdom.

Brenda Quickenten, 82, is chosen for a royal chat. She tells the queen about her late husband who, although disabled by polio, helped raise 3 million pounds to improve the hospital where he was treated.

 Prince Philip stays close to his wife, listening less attentively.

"So, how did you get him?" he kids a woman about her husband. He's in a mood for jokes.

 But most of the guests are able to get only a glimpse of royalty. Many console themselves with the sandwiches, ice cream and cakes served in tents, including the large, main tent for "ordinary" guests and a smaller one for diplomats and the not-quite-VIPs.

 The queen and her husband chatted with the real VIPs in the royal tea tent.

"It's nice to have a cup of tea in the queen's garden," says Rev Mary Gregory, who did get to talk to her but seems just as enthusiastic about the food.

 For anyone counting, the caterers laid out 27,000 cups of tea, 20,000 trimmed cucumber-and-egg sandwiches and 20,000 slices of cake.

 The rain that had stopped when the queen arrived now becomes a thunderstorm and hail. Few guests get to witness Her Majesty's exit because they have to dash for shelter. Expensive shoes rest in puddles and floral dresses wilt, but the British stiff upper lip prevails.

 "I'm a republican, but I enjoyed the queen's party," a Scottish unionist declares. "At first I thought it's going to be me and my wife drinking tea with the queen, but not with thousands of people!"

 Those within earshot can't help but smile. It's been a very typical British summer day.