The Irish State Coach departs Buckingham Palace carrying King Charles III and Queen Camilla to the Palace of Westminster for the State Opening of Parliament, 13th May 2026.
WELCOME to my Journal. This is the first article I am writing here, with the aim of giving a little insight behind the photographs and the reality of covering royal events from the pavement, the press pen and, occasionally, somewhere rather surreal in between. Everything written here is based on my own experiences and opinions as an upcoming photographer covering the monarchy and public life in Britain today.
In July 2024, on a scorching summer’s day, I stood on The Mall as King Charles III opened Parliament following the General Election. None of us knew then that it would be another twenty months before the ceremony returned. Last Wednesday, 13th May 2026, the date finally arrived as The King opened the second session of Parliament elected in 2024, against a backdrop of political turbulence and growing pressure on the Government.
This year, I had accredited access on top of the Queen Victoria Memorial opposite Buckingham Palace to photograph proceedings throughout the day. Even now, typing that still sounds slightly ridiculous to me.
The day began, as many royal trips do, half asleep somewhere up the country. We travelled overnight from Middlesbrough on a delayed coach, although for once I actually managed to get some sleep. Usually these journeys involve staring blankly out of a rain-covered window at the A1 while convincing yourself you are not tired.
We arrived at Victoria around seven in the morning, acquired the traditional royal photographer breakfast of McDonald’s, and headed for the Palace. It was my first London royal event of the year and you can always feel the ceremonial season beginning around this time. There is something about London on these occasions — police barriers stacked on pavements, tourists wondering what on earth is going on, Guardsmen appearing out of side streets before most people have had breakfast.
Mam secured a spot on The Mall while I headed off towards Canada Gate to collect accreditation. After security checks, police escorted us onto the Queen Victoria Memorial itself. Standing unpacking my cameras on top of the Memorial felt completely surreal. One minute you are a lad from County Durham watching these occasions on television, the next you are standing above The Mall with photographers from across the world preparing for the State Opening of Parliament.
For a while, not much happened beyond waiting and scanning the horizon. Then, at around quarter to ten, the Tri-Service contingent marched out from Wellington Barracks and suddenly the whole day burst into life. From then on it became a constant stream of Foot Guards, military bands and Household Division troops flowing onto The Mall in immaculate formation. Watching the Foot Guards line the route with absolute precision is fascinating every time — organised chaos carried out with military perfection.
Soon enough, the Household Cavalry arrived, Major General James Bowder took position at Canada Gate, and the first carriages from the Royal Mews began appearing. Then the weather decided Britain had become too comfortable.
One moment it was sunshine. Five minutes later hailstones. Then came heavy rain sweeping straight across the Memorial. My immediate concern became saving thousands of pounds worth of camera equipment, including a rented Sony 100-400mm lens attached to my Sony A9. I had absolutely nothing to cover the bags with and no cloth to wipe anything down. A textbook example of preparation meeting optimism. Thankfully modern camera gear is weather-sealed to some extent, though I suspect the equipment was coping better than I was.
At 10:40, the Imperial State Crown departed Buckingham Palace in the Queen Alexandra State Coach alongside the Cap of Maintenance. What immediately caught my eye was the positioning of the Crown itself. Normally photographers mainly catch its side profile, but this year the angle revealed the front far more clearly, including the famous Black Prince’s Ruby. It made for one of the best Crown shots I have ever managed.
Following behind came two of the Royal ceremonial maces before attention turned towards Clarence House. Ten minutes later, The King and The Queen departed for the Palace. Meanwhile, I somehow managed to miss the Sovereign’s Procession entering Buckingham Palace itself, only catching the rear of the Irish State Coach disappearing beneath the archway into the Quadrangle.
The biggest surprise of the morning was undoubtedly the use of the Irish State Coach. It had not been seen at a State Opening since 2013 following the introduction of the Diamond Jubilee State Coach with all its modern comforts — larger windows, stabilisation and air conditioning, all deeply appreciated by photographers trying desperately to get a clean shot through glass. The Irish State Coach, magnificent though it is, does not exactly offer the same advantages. Whether The King simply wanted a more traditional feel or whether there was another reason entirely, only Palace officials will know.
Then came the moment.
At exactly 11am, the Irish State Coach emerged beneath the Centre Arch of Buckingham Palace. The Royal Salute rang out across the forecourt followed immediately by the National Anthem. For a brief second whilst swapping cameras, I took my eye away from the viewfinder just to properly look at it all. The coach. The Household Cavalry. The Guards. The anthem echoing around the Palace.
I had a lump in my throat.
As daft as it sounds, it genuinely hit me in that moment that I was actually there covering it. All those years growing up watching State Openings and Troopings on television with family, studying every detail of the procession, and now somehow photographing it professionally from the Queen Victoria Memorial itself. I really wished Auntie Sheila and Grandad could have seen it.
The King, dressed in the uniform of Admiral of the Fleet, looked characteristically serious during the procession. Photographing The Queen proved more difficult due to her position inside the coach and the smaller windows of the Irish State Coach, though glimpses of the George IV State Diadem still cut through the rain and gloom spectacularly.
Once the procession disappeared towards Westminster, attention turned briefly towards Green Park where the King’s Troop Royal Horse Artillery prepared the 41-gun salute. By then the weather had finally calmed down, naturally after most of us were already soaked through. I spent much of this period pacing laps around the Memorial attempting to file photographs to Alamy using signal that appeared to have been powered by carrier pigeon.
The King returned down The Mall shortly after midday following the Speech from the Throne in the House of Lords. Thankfully, despite threatening skies once again looming overhead, the rain held off. The Imperial State Crown followed several minutes later before the King’s Troop formed up within the Quadrangle for a march past.
Then came one of those moments photographers dream about.
While most people were reviewing images or beginning to relax, I happened to glance up towards the Palace and spotted The King standing on a dais inside the Quadrangle reviewing troops. Nobody else around me had noticed initially. I practically flew down the Memorial steps and managed to capture a brilliant frame through the Palace archway before everyone else caught on and descended in pursuit. Sometimes luck in photography is simply looking up at the right time.
Eventually I packed away and returned to the barriers on The Mall where I spotted what I presumed was The King and Queen leaving Buckingham Palace again later in the afternoon. For reasons I still deeply regret, I decided to film it instead of photographing it. The result? I missed an absolutely superb portrait opportunity of The Queen alone in the Diadem looking directly towards me. A proper front-page style shot gone forever because I fancied recording a video. Lessons were learned.
By now my shoes were flooded after stepping directly into a gutter atop the Memorial earlier in the day. In hindsight, net trainers may not have been the tactical masterstroke I believed them to be at four in the morning.
We retreated briefly to the café in St James's Park which became our temporary newsroom while hail and what genuinely felt like a pollen storm battered central London. Even I started suffering once it caught the back of my throat.
Later, Five Guys at Victoria became temporary office number two as I continued battling dreadful signal trying to send photographs off to agencies whilst simultaneously demolishing a burger.
By early evening we returned to Buckingham Palace where police activity around the Memorial suggested something was happening. Sure enough, the Prime Minister had arrived for his weekly audience with The King. Given the current political climate, there was particular interest surrounding it. Through a narrow gap in one of the Palace arches I managed to spot the Prime Minister’s car positioned inside the Quadrangle. Interestingly, the audience lasted far longer than usual — well over an hour — and The King actually departed first. Palace staff repositioned the Prime Minister’s vehicle before departure, unfortunately ruining any chance of a proper clear photograph.
And with that, the day was over.
Train home this time — luxury by royal trip standards — accompanied, naturally, by yet more rain showers across the North.
The State Opening remains my favourite event in the royal calendar. Trooping the Colour may be bigger and more overwhelming, but State Opening has a certain atmosphere all of its own. Ancient ceremony, political theatre, military precision and the sheer spectacle of monarchy all compressed into a few remarkable hours in central London.
And then there is that Crown.
No matter how many times you see it, the Imperial State Crown still stops you in your tracks. Britain does pageantry better than anyone else on earth. Last Wednesday was a reminder of exactly why.
