I WENT to London last week for a wedding.

You might have heard about it.

According to the groom it was ‘supposed to be a small family affair’, and I guess it was, to someone who probably uses the word ‘millions’ fairly often in his day to day life.

But for myself and most people I spoke to on Friday, it was one of the biggest and loveliest days we’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing, but not for the reasons I would have expected.

Most of my friends thought I was a little crazy for going down. After all, what sort of fool would choose to travel in to the centre of London at the same time a million other people were pouring in?

Alas, the lure of being part of a ‘once in a generation’ event was too strong for this camera-carrying Aussie.

Mind you I wasn’t the only one. When the ticket seller at Thornhill park-and-ride told the crowd waiting he thought the bus coming may be full (it wasn’t even 7am yet), it was pretty obvious I wasn’t the only crazy one.

Knowing I had more chance of receiving an official invite than I did of actually getting a decent view of anyone or anything official (the crowds were at least 20 deep in places) my first stop was Buckingham Palace to soak up the atmosphere, which is where I noticed the strangest thing: person after person with huge smiles on their faces.

In fact, with the exception of the heavily armed policemen patrolling the perimeter of the palace, every single person on the street was either laughing or smiling.

In more than 10 years of visiting London I had never seen such a bizarre sight.

Stranger still, people apologised if they bumped into someone and on public transport strangers weren’t just looking each other in the eye, they were also talking to each other.

If you had an accent you were asked where you were from, and if you had a child, complete strangers offered to get out of your way to give them a better view.

It was like all normal ‘London rules’ had been suspended for the day.

Flags, scarves and stupid hats were the order of the day and most seemed desperate to have their photo taken with people who were dressed like that weirdo you usually go out of your way to avoid sitting near on the Tube.

Outside the Abbey the atmosphere was just as lovely. I even noticed a six-foot-something guy offering to take photos for the people near him “because he had a better view”.

I’d guess everyone has a favourite memory from the day. Maybe it was the moment they said “I do”, or the image of little Grace Van Custem with her fingers in her ears, but, for me, it’ll be just how much ‘un-London’, London was for a day.

That and the blurry photo I managed to take of the Queen. Or more accurately Her Majesty’s left arm.