Travel photo essay: Street party in Surbiton.

“I am thankful for the mess to clean after a party because it means I have been surrounded by friends.”

— Nancie J. Carmody

As the Royal Wedding drew to a close a week ago today, Will and Kate waving a final goodbye from the balcony of Buckingham Palace before turning inside, I thought that would bring the festivities to an end.

People had been camping out and queuing up for so many hours—even days—before the main event, I thought we’d all collapse from exhaustion once the ceremony ended, like an overloaded toddler at his own birthday party, imploding from too much excitement and sugar.

How wrong I was.

As I made my way home from Surbiton station last Friday evening, my spirits still up but physical energy levels crashing, I could hear music in the distance—live music, the whining of amps, the perfectly imperfect voices of the singers. I remembered seeing signs posted throughout the week for the Spring Grove street party and knew it could only be one thing.

The Spring Grove is a pub I’ve gotten to know well over the past eight months or so. A mere five minutes’ walk from my university, it has become our “local” to frequent after Tuesday night workshops, Thursday afternoon lectures, and—well, let’s be honest—any other time there’s at least a few of us hanging around campus. On Tuesdays, there’s often a battle for space as that night’s football match is played on giant projector screens. In the past few weeks of unexpected sunshine, the back garden is often overtaken by sun-bathers with their cider.

But on Royal Wedding Friday, they’d moved the party outdoors. Tables and chairs lined the street, a stage had been set up near the door to the pub, bunting zig-zagged over the heads of the crowd, and even dogs showed their patriotic side, sporting Union Jack bows. Although it was nearly six o’clock, hours after the wedding had officially ended, this party was going strong—and they showed no signs of stopping.

I moved happily through the clusters of family and friends, snapping a few photos, soaking up the atmosphere. When I finally headed home, I passed an elderly gentleman on the sidewalk. Seeing the smile on my face, he called out, “Nice party, wasn’t it?”

Nice party, indeed.