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Well I never, the House of freaking Lords
It happened completely by chance that we found ourselves inside Westminster, but there we were, photographed and felt up, waiting in the Central Lobby for entry to the public gallery of the House of Lords. One came out, perhaps the elderly member for Upper Ramsbottom, or so we thought from the way he walked. Stooped, bow legged in knee high boots, tight black pants, bow tie, black tails and a white wig pulled back into a bun. Utterly splendid, just as a lord should be.
As it turns out, he was probably only a messenger. The lords and ladies are a pretty ordinary looking bunch, although some lack chins as my wife has observed of the English male. We were seated in the “Strangers Gallery” and it was the second reading of the Equal Pay and Flexible Working Hours Bill, what better legislation for us to chance upon. The Bill, sponsored by Conservative Party member Baroness Morris of Bolton, with support from Labour’s Baroness Vadera, was debated in a sort of love-fest way. Each side oozing commendation on the other and being wonderfully familiar with one another. As an example, for the completeness of your reading pleasure, I memorized Baroness Morris’s reference to Labour’s Lord Morris (no relation, he’s black) of Handsworth as an example..
“When the noble Lord, Lord Morris, said that he agreed with everything, I thought of how, in these difficult times, people sometimes seem to be on different sides of the argument. We had a wonderful supper together the other night, when as a good Tory I bemoaned the fact that I banked with the RBS (Royal Bank of Scotland), which is now almost entirely owned by the Government, and that my mortgage is with the Britannia, which has now merged with the Co-operative society. The noble Lord, Lord Morris, said that for all his life he had been campaigning for a mixed economy, but he never thought that it would be the banks that were nationalised and the Post Office that was privatised. It just goes to show that, in these times, arguments really are all over the place.” Lord Morris of Handsworth chuckled graciously.
To conclude we stood for the ceremonial exit of members as the House rose, the Lord speaker arising from the “woolsack” followed by a chap carrying the ceremonial mace. The woolsack is like a big beanbag on the edge of which the Lord speaker perches, legs crossed and looking as relaxed as she could be at home watching television and knitting. Most unlike New Zealand
What we forget and what photos never do justice to, is just how ornate Westminster is. Anousheh described the outside as intricate as lace, and it is utterly magnificent. So too the inside, the Hall adorned with brass plaques showing where people were tried, sentenced to death or even lay in state over the years. “This table marks, with as much accuracy as can be attained, the place where Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, stood in this hall during the impeachment for high treason brought against him before the House of Lords, upon the accusation of the House of Commons: 22 March – 29 April 1640 – 1”. This, next to where the Queen Mother lay in state following her death in 2002.
Perhaps our favourite inscription was on the statue in the Lobby of John Earl Russell, an MP from 1813, twice Prime Minister and described as a strenuous advocate for parliamentary reform. Queen Victoria described him differently, as “Selfish, peevish Johnny”.
After a jolly good feed of Cornish pasty and sausage roll in the Jubilee cafeteria, we left.

Photo: Keeping out the riff raff at Westminster