It’s one of those clichés dusted off with the bunting at every big ceremonial occasion. We’ve all heard it during a lull in the ermine-cloaked action. Three hours we’ll have spent waiting for a Range Rover to move ten feet, a butler to lower St Archibald’s rod, or a procession to deliver Scotland’s National Thistle to the Abbey, and then the camera will briefly cut to Hugh Edwards playing with his earpiece from his perch on top of a treasured national monument/David Dimbleby.
“It’s likely that this is the last time we’ll see an event with this much fanfare and ceremony,” he’ll coo, swivelling in his chair whilst giving his quiff a quick cat treat to keep it calm.
