HM Queen Elizabeth II. 19th Sept 22.

Queen Elizabeth with her Leica M3.

If you’re a fan of the Leica family of cameras, the above image (not mine, I may add) will be very familiar to you. She was seen many times wielding it when her horses were racing.

You may know that I use a modern version of this camera to document people and places. So as soon as I heard that the good lady had died, I knew where I would be on the day of her funeral. No, not taking pictures of the procession as there will be thousands of photographs taken of that by photographers with telephoto lenses able to get in much more appropriate spots. No, I would be photographing the people who had made the journey to London, to Westminster to simply be close to the action as a once in a lifetime event happened.

I started the day waking up at 0300 after spending the previous four days exhibiting at ‘UNSEEN Amsterdam’. One of the biggest photography fairs in Europe. My plane was very early indeed and only brought me back to Liverpool Airport. The rush was on to get me from Liverpool to Warrington Bank Quay station where a train could take me in just over an hour to the heart of London.

When I arrived, somewhat tired, I immediately dove deep down in to the underground system to get to Westminster. I thought it would be chaos. It wasn’t. It was quiet, calm and respectful. London was basically shut so the only public about were funeral bound. Bliss.

How strange it was to emerge from the tube to a very peaceful atmosphere. I had already started taking pictures from the moment I arrived at Euston and it was easy to carry on. There were people there from all walks of life. From young to old. Ex servicemen in black suits and black ties with their medals proudly displayed to children with flags. They probably didn’t realise the momentousness of the occasion. One day they might. They can say they were there.

There are a couple of images that stand out to me. A 92 year old lady who must have camped out for hours to be where she and her family were and enjoying a can of Stella Artios to the group of men in black suits outside a pub enjoying a pint after the show was over. How very English.

Another favourite is the woman who, once security around Westminster had been relaxed, immediately took her daughter to see her dad. They look relieved and so very happy. With more security threats that we can think of, it must have been a very happy reunion.

What a day. A festival of tradition that only our little island will ever be able to put on. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that when the UK puts on a show like this, the world stops to watch.