On the 28th June 2011 I had the privilege of singing to the Queen at Fishmungers' Hall, London. The place itself is somewhat majestic in its vast size and exuberant decoration; with it's sweeping staircase and hallway:
Its elaborate and - it's fair to say - unnecessary crest for each Prime Warden:
Or the beautiful intricacy and attention to detail that was apparent with each item and object in the building:
Of course, due to the occasion there were added extras such as this extravagant bouquet of flowers that was the height of a Great Dane, and could be smelt from across the room!
Although, despite the fact that the Queen of England was in the building, enclosed in its lavish interior, the outside world droned on through its mundane schedule: working, walking, waiting, running errands, hating the mediocrity of the average job over the sanctity of a cigarette break...
...As although in Fishmungers' Hall the atmosphere was abuzz with the presence of Royalty and the intoxication of vintage port, the day outside those thick walls was as grey and dreary as any other in the hopeless English summer; thus people walk on along the London Bridge, oblivious to the honour of our occasion.
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