THERE’S an old Malay saying, “tuah ayam nampak di kaki, tuah manusia tiada siapa tahu”- you can tell the fate of the chicken from its claws but not so for human beings. That saying was playing in my mind as I stepped off the First Great Western at Windsor train station, four days before the much anticipated wedding of American actress Meghan Markle to Prince Harry, the sixth in line to the British throne.
Who would have thought that the once married activist and actress of mixed parentage from across the Atlantic would one day marry the dashing young prince, son of the much loved Princess of Wales and the heir to the throne, Prince Charles. To a certain extent, it brings to mind a modern version of Edward and Mrs Simpson.
The Royal town of Windsor where the British Monarch and Prince Philip live for most of the year, was already gearing up to welcome the American bride. The marriage ceremony was held at St George’s Chapel, where Harry was christened.
There was an air of festivities with flags flying in the summer skies while tourists and locals alike trooped in wearing anything and everything, from paper crowns to Union Jack suits and Meghan paper masks to join in the fun. Everywhere on pavements and sidewalks, the world media set up their gears reporting on preparations for the big day.
Pictures of the happy couple are everywhere; on mugs and commemorative plates in window displays to plastic bags and banners draped around loyal Royalties, who had camped days ahead to get vantage point of the procession leading to the castle.
For me it was a déjà vu with a difference as I watched the merriment around me; I was there side stepping people draped in the Union Jack, sitting on pavements leading up all the way to St Paul’s Cathedral in 1981. And I was also there in front of the Westminster Abbey when Prince William and Kate Middleton got married in 2011.
Going to Windsor in anticipation of this happy occasion was like going to a reunion of sorts: there was Terry Hutt, 84 in his Union Jack suit that had earned him the nickname the Union Jack Man that the Queen had given him. Terry and his group of friends would regroup from wherever they are for a Royal event. Just weeks ago, there were camped in front of the Lindo Wing of St Mary’s hospital for the birth of Prince Louis.
I had seen Terry and his merry friends several times before, the first was at the wedding of Prince Wiliams and Kate Middleton, and then during the birth of their first son.
“I will keep on attending these royal events as long as I can walk,” said Terry, whose first meeting with the Queen Mother on her walkabout during the Blitz, left a profound impression on him. He was only four then. Now, he is a familiar figure with his paraphernalia at every royal event. The Queen even stopped to chat with him, making it worth sleeping on the pavements and the money spent on the trip from Weston Super Mare, 300 miles (481 km)away.
From further ashore were Cynthia Price from Canada and Michelle from Australia who, like others are ardent fans of the late Princess Diana and wouldn’t ever want to miss the chance of witnessing her youngest son’s wedding. Strangers to each other before this, they both flew in a few days ago and had found a spot behind a barricade, close enough to the entrance of the castle. They had attracted other foreign media to their cheerful little corner decorated with the Union Jack and the American flags, with pictures and banners of the happy couple.
Further down the road, a choir group was performing live for the BBC. I did a double take when I caught sight of someone I thought was father of the groom, but it was none other than Prince Charles lookalike, Guy Ingle, who had been making appearances as the heir to the British throne for the past 26 years. With a similar bald patch in the middle of the head and voice to match, Guy walked around with hands clasped behind him amusing tourists and locals alike with his impeccable impersonation.
Earlier during the day, there was a rehearsal of the big day and a huge crowd had turned up for a chance to catch a glimpse of the happy couple. Long forgotten is the week of drama that had been hogging the headlines, threatening to overshadow the real event with stories after stories from Meghan’s side of the family. It had started with her half brother’s open letter to stop the marriage, to the father’s part in a paparazzi deal and later his health scare, and her half sister’s outburst at what she claimed was Meghan’s attempt to stop her from speaking to the press.
Harry married an actress but didn’t bargain for it to develop into a drama at the start of his married life. That said, it certainly has all the ingredients with plots and subplots, and interesting characters that Hollywood would die for to make a blockbuster.