Rest in Peace Her Majesty.

 Rest in Peace Her Majesty the Queen.

It must have felt like the longest journey of all time. Yesterday morning a dark, grey pall of sombreness fell over Scotland as a deeply loved monarch made her way out of Balmoral for what was now the last time. A fleet of limousines cruised out onto the open road, the royal insignia more visible than ever, a crisp early autumnal day serenaded by the early morning blackbirds and crows. It almost seemed too perfect to be true. And yet there was something not quite right in the world. Of course we were all alive and well for which we should all be grateful. But there was something missing.

Her Royal Majesty Queen Elizabeth the second was no longer here to tell her fascinating story. The final chapter of her book had been read, the pages now perused and the new volume would be opened up on a fresh new adventure into the unknown. The truth is of course that most of us are familiar with both the plot, the characters, the narrative and the main protagonists. This is the beginning of a new monarchical reign and history faded away from Buckingham Palace. Long live the King. Rest in Peace Her Majesty. 

Meanwhile, as has now been observed, a gorgeous rainbow perched itself over Windsor Castle. This had to be the best of all omens. Surely Judy Garland hadn't come back to life and we were just hallucinating but the truth is Her Majesty the Queen had joined her husband Prince Philip in heaven. But in a small corner of Balmoral the royal cars smoothly drove away from the crunching gravel way, sad and symbolic reminders of why we were mourning, reminiscing and tenderly cherishing the Queen, her perpetual legacy and memory still shimmering with glory days. We'll always miss you Ma'am. 

And so the funeral cortege slowly and respectfully wound its way around the back streets of chocolate box Scottish villages pausing only to allow the motor bike outriders to flash their lights and pay homage to a great Queen. It was very surreal and almost incomprehensible, a world away from the pomp and ceremony in the bigger cities, all the attention to be focused on Windsor and then the centre of London. 

Yesterday morning we were confronted by madness and stupidity. Now some of us have nothing but admiration for the Metropolitan Police and there are times when you feel terribly sorry for some of the predicaments they invariably find themselves in. How often have we seen them at the centre of violent demonstrations in the inner cities of Britain, charging batons and horses bravely at the feet of disgruntled activists, dodging smoke bombs, tear gas and all manner of dangerous ammunition?

But on the Sunday morning after Her Majesty's passing, my lovely wife and yours truly took ourselves to the Mall, that famous tourist landmark which has been privy to some of the most colourful royal anniversaries throughout the decades. We would walk down the Mall in much the way we always had. We'd been loyal spectators at some of my father in law's Jewish Ex Serviceman services the week after Remembrance Day in November and now here we were again. 

We were to be flabbergasted at the complete lack of any crowd control. Finally, we would hit the proverbial brick wall, a human traffic jam that beggared belief. In front of us we could see masses of people simply being herded into two narrow lines barely able to move at all let alone make any kind of progress. So we moved and moved and then moved again tentatively, steadily but essentially went nowhere. We both took a breath, inhaling and privately seething. Who on earth had organised this chaos? Was this a premeditated attempt to wind us up, provoking a totally unnecessary argument. Why couldn't we just accept the wretched absurdity of the operation?

So you passed a whole phalanx of policemen and women guarding the innumerable barriers, held back your increasing frustration but then realised that your whole objective on the day was to get to Buckingham Palace and join the rest of the mourners outside the gates. Sadly, one policeman refused to see the glaring logic of it all. 

You were then subjected to both barrels of heavy sarcasm, barely believable humiliation and a sharp dressing down. Now we feel sure that the said policeman is a pillar of his community and a loving husband to his wife and children but yesterday you had no idea what exactly you'd done to suffer such a sardonic tongue. You have no issue with his exalted status and what was said may have been in the heat of the moment but this was totally uncalled for. He didn't swear at me and there was nothing wrong with my questioning on crowd management, but it all seemed a storm in a teacup.

Your grievance was that the vast crowds may have got to their intended destination much more quickly if they'd simply been allowed to walk in the road itself along the Mall at a leisurely pace. What we saw yesterday was a total breakdown in communication and a complete lack of recognition of the obvious. In front of us there was a massive gathering of well-wishers who just wanted to put their flowers and Paddington bears at Buckingham Palace. 

Instead we were left high and dry, just left to climb over the Green Park railings, wandering around the brown autumn leaves with our dog before swiftly turning around and going home again. It had been a brisk and invigorating walk in part of one of London's lesser- known parks but not the one we would like to repeat at any time in the immediate future.

So off we strolled back to a bus stop for home and concluded a day that was therapeutic for my wife and yours truly in so much that it had given us some excellent exercise. But the next time you're in the Mall and there are loads of people who would just like to do what they'd set out to do in the first place it might be advisable to take a good book, the Sunday Times perhaps or just wait very patiently in case the day doesn't materialise in the way you thought it would.