ANZAC Day London Part Deux... That's two. Yes, there is another one, below this one.

Mid morning we caught the tube one hop to Westminster and the houses of power. There was a ceremony described as a short wreath laying and open public remembrance at St Pauls which we elected to forgo due to timings. We found strong coffee and made our way to Whitehall where they were closing the entire main street to all traffic. Full credit to London, they don't do it by halves. Detector dogs and armed Police were prominent. We had tickets to the ceremony and wreath laying at the Cenotaph but timings were tight and we decided to watch from the barriers for a while. The queue to get in grew to the length of the street.

Timings were fairly tight to get the large crowd to Westminster Abbey and through security after the ceremony here, so having already done one wreath laying we decided to head there early.

Security at Westminster was tighter again. Bag searches, metal detectors. Invite only (note anyone can apply online for pleb admission and if you are lucky you might be invited to attend) and showing passports. Many cops. We debated seating as the place was at that point mostly empty and picked a spot in the middle somewhere, unsure of where everything happened. For reference if anyone wants to go, most of it happens up the fancy end where only dignitaries and royals and important church folk go. If you get a seat where you can see up the aisle you might see some of it. But it's all on speakers and all the flash people walk up the middle to get to and from, so you see them, and the wreath laying on the tomb of the Unknown Soldier, etc. Little known fact, every Royal bride who marries in Westminster Abbey, which is all the important ones, pauses as she arrives to lay her wedding bouquet on his tomb, which is in the floor at the main entrance, and all who enter must walk around. Kate was the last to do it, meaning a future Queen of England once again bequeathed her matrimonial flowers to the unknown lad lying there eternally at rest. Nice touch that. Well done you.

The ceremony was proper, undoubtedly one of the best of any ceremony I have been to for anything anywhere, and I have been to some. They closed the whole Abbey for most of the day, one of London's most pivotal tourist attractions and icons. We saw many a disgruntled tourist whining to security outside the cordon. Good job. Well done you. Being inside a 1000 year old church for a major and very special ceremony complete with The Duke of York, the Lord Mayor of London etc was really quite a thing. The huge pipe organ boomed. Fanfare Trumpters in red coat and bearskin played from high up in the soaring ceiling. You know when a military unit has a name like The Coldstream Guards that they probably didn't have it soft back in the day. The choir sang. Without a word of a lie the first time the choir started a brilliant shaft of sunlight came down through the huge stained glass window behind us and illuminated the crowd. I guess after my low key and largely solitary time in France and Belgium this was a welcome piece of fittingly dramatic and large-scale massed commemoration. 

There was some of the usual talk of unity and peace and reconciliation of all the participants which was fine, a flag bearer carried the Turkish flag in with the others. But there was also a lot of talk of the ties that bind the Commonwealth and the Allied forces and of common faith and history and the need for a future where likeminded countries stand up for their own, not just some hazy ideal of everyone holding hands and tolerance and letting people do what they want. This was even, and most eloquently, from the Dean of the Cathedral, aka Boss Church Guy, who said in uncertain times remembering such things was most important. It was good. The Turkish Ambassador read the famous quote attributed to Ataturk when he said that the mothers of boys who died at Gallipoli need cry no more, for now they were also sons of Turkey, which I always find very moving. Children read prayers, there were Bible readings, hymns were sung. Proper.

Not sure what more to tell you, if you hadn't noticed I was pretty positive about the whole thing. After I shook the Dean's hand on the way out and thanked him for the proceedings we had a beer for all the boys at The Westminster Arms, a little pub of note just over the way, a place of historic politicking and intrigue.

We grabbed some lunch back in Mayfair while picking up baggage and then gapped it via tube & train back to Croydon, where we shivved some people for dissing us and checked in with our posse.

No, we packed up and escaped London via the kind taxi services of future Dad in Law, back to Chichester for yummy tea and some couch time. We were very sleepy. So ended ANZAC 2017 and many thanks to all the Aussies and Kiwis and Brits who made it possible, and indeed closed down a major bit of central London for it. Well done you. Proper.