The great day here again. Dad wakes us at 5am and after consuming one cup of tea between the two of us we chase down the lane, John driving the cortina of course, to the Station Hotel, where we wait for the coach to London. This is the fourth consecutive trip to the Trooping the Colour I've been on - '72, '73, '74 and '75. John has accompanied me on the last three.
Besides being the Queen's official birthday it is also David's 20th. I have despatched a card to Worcester conveying my best wishes. Knowing poor David, he'll hate the thought of waving bye bye to his teens, but it comes to all of us in the end.
We mount the coach and off and away. We aim to meet Chris outside the Odeon opposite Hyde Park Corner at 10am. Alas, this is not to be. The ruddy thing catches fire or something (the coach) and we are sat in a lay-by from 6.30 until 8. The horror of knowing at 10am that Chris was waiting for us when we were still 50 miles from London just ruined everything. John slept all the way, and I felt hideously tired.
Get into London at 11.25 or something and we go straight to the palace where we see the Queen return from the Trooping. The Queen Mother and Princess Margaret and all the rest were in open landaus as usual. I could hardly enjoy any of it in the state I was in. Sweating like a pig, and weak at the knees. It was so hot, humid and cloudy too.
At 1pm after the (RAF) flypast we staggered to Carnaby Street (via the tube of course) where we had a few drinks (me on coke) until 3. We then rang home to get Chris's hotel phone number and then contacted the hotel leaving a message telling Chris to meet us at the Tiger Bar before 9pm, when we would have to leave.
At about 4 o'clock I was too tired to do anything other than lay down, and so we made our way to the Tower. At first we sat on a bench opposite HMS Belfast, but I couldn't keep my eyes open. We both went to the garden of rest, a memorial for all the merchant seamen killed in the two World Wars, and I slept soundly for an hour. At 6 we went in to the Tiger Bar, where I had a few pernods, cokes and tomato juices. MET CHRIS AT 8O'CLOCK. Success at last! We handed over the £180 holiday money and had a few more drinks. Our coach left at 9pm. But at least we achieved our aim. I'd given up hope of ever seeing Chris at all.
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