This golden carriage is impressively regal, but only until one actually gets in.
Sure, the gilded carved cherubs gleam in the weak spring sunshine, and the plush blue velvet curtains are perfectly draped to avoid the nosy hoi polloi from peeking in, but the inside is cramped and smells distinctly of horses.
This pretender to the throne isn’t complaining though, as I’m about to experience part of the journey King Charles III and Queen Camilla will take on Saturday on their way to the Coronation at Westminster Abbey.
I’m in a fake royal carriage usually used as a TV prop, being hired out by mobility app FREE NOW.
But like the Gold State Coach that it imitates, it’s built more to impress those on the outside than to accommodate those inside. It works – soon gobsmacked tourists are lining up to take pictures.
And with a whistle to the four glossy black horses up front, we’re suddenly pulling out into traffic.
A London double-decker flashes its headlights to give way to us, and our expert coachman waves his thanks as we glide down Charing Cross Road.
It’s good that the horses are well used to crowds, as we’ve attracted quite the audience. Joe, Zorro, Ice and Star (like the coach from The Devil’s Horsemen stables in Milton Keynes) have previously starred in Game of Thrones, Peaky Blinders, Gentleman Jack, and the Lloyds TSB bank adverts on TV.
Pulling a golden coach during Central London’s morning rush hour is a trot in the park in comparison. Our footman, Ben King, is not just for show.
Each time we stop at traffic lights he jumps down from his precarious perch at the back of the coach and manually cranks the rear brake, to prevent the giant wheels from rolling back into other traffic.
Ben has a surprising confession after the ride, telling me sheepishly: “I’m not really that bothered about the Coronation.
“I’ll probably be with the horses, looking after them that day.”
Others I spot from inside my velvet cocoon are much more excited.
Children’s eyes light up as we sail past them, while their parents jostle to pull out their phones for photos.
As we trot around the roundabout past Admiralty Arch, I spot the entrance to The Mall, the road connecting Buckingham Palace and Trafalgar Square.
Every lamppost is already swathed in Union Flags. This will be the view greeting the King and Queen as they leave the royal palace at 10.20am on Saturday for their 1.3-mile journey to Westminster Abbey for the 11am Coronation ceremony.
Many royalists are already camping out on The Mall to get a good spot. As long as the weather behaves itself, thousands will be out lining the streets. The cacophony from flag-waving fans is bound to be immense.
Charles and Camilla’s journey on this route will be a lot more comfortable than mine today though.
They will ride in the Diamond Jubilee State Coach, escorted by members of the Household Cavalry Mounted Regiment. The coach was built in 2012 to mark the late Queen’s 60th year on the throne, and so its many modern conveniences include electric windows, air-conditioning and a hydraulic suspension.
It contains wood from the Tower of London, the Mary Rose, York Minster, Durham Cathedral, Edinburgh Castle and Balmoral Castle, plus other British landmarks. The crown on the roof is carved using timber from Lord Nelson’s flagship HMS Victory.
It also incorporates material from the Stone of Scone –the symbol of Scottish monarchy that will be under Charles’s chair for the Coronation – a musket ball from the Battle of Waterloo and part of a Dambusters Lancaster bomber.
The 2.75-ton carriage will be pulled by six Windsor Grey horses.
On their way back to Buckingham Palace, Charles and Camilla will use the Gold State Coach, finished in 1762, of which my wagon is a copy.
It has been used in every coronation since William IV’s in 1831 but many monarchs complained of the bumpy ride. Queen Elizabeth recalled hers in 1952 as “horrible”. William IV, who commissioned the coach, compared it to being on a ship in a rough sea.
Luckily my carriage experience is nowhere near as spine-jolting – or perhaps we commoners don’t have such sensitive bones as the royals.
All too soon my royal ride is over and I’m back to being a peasant.
With a sigh, I leave my crown and sceptre in the cabin and, after a parting nose-stroke for each of the beautiful horses, I’m forced to use Shanks’s pony to make my way home.
