horns of wilmington's cow

By anth

Royal Visit

It's official, Princess Anne the Princess Royal (aren't all princesses 'royal') makes children cry.

It probably won't surprise anyone to learn that I'm not a royalist. It's not that I actively dislike them, more that I'm completely ambivalent. I can't see how being born into a rich and/or powerful family, a complete accident of birth, makes you special. Paris Hilton proves that day-in day-out. Although even I would have to admit that Princess Anne is one who seems to use her time and influence a bit better than some (and to be honest I can't be bothered with the whole Prince Harry 'furore').

It's funny that the car park into which she alighted is usually a mess of potholes, a seemingly bottomless skip (or they just rotate the contents), and a sea of cars. The preparations started last week however (for what is apparently an annual event - four years working here and I've never seen her arrive at the cathedral). New gravel was put down, the skip disappeared, and this morning two bored policemen were guarding the entrance to the car park.

Heck of a lot of effort for one person. Especially when you take into account the multitudinous police outriders also employed, together with two large range rovers (one police, one big, black Spooks style secret service).

Stop press: the police motorcyclists are back, giving a very funny look to the paper recycling truck outside our office. It's all faintly ridiculous really.

I really wanted to call this picture goose-step...

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