THE ROYAL WEDDING

What is one to make of all that?

Well, it certainly showed Britain at its best. The precision timing of the various arrivals, the Household Cavalry and the Guards on parade, the trumpeters, choir and music, the clergy in their robes, the fantastic church (if you want to know what inspired mediæval man, then visit Westminster Abbey). There were too many television shots of Elton John, Posh and Becks, and David Cameron. But there were also some good ones; Rowan Williams as an avuncular Archbishop of Canterbury, Prince William looking like the cat that had got the cream, and - best of all - that political bruiser and current Justice Secretary Kenneth Clarke lurking in the choir stalls.

In the fashion stakes, some of the women had dreadful dress sense; Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie, William's cousins, spring to mind. The bride looked lovely, of course, all brides do. Apart from her, the best-dressed females were Kate Middleton's bridesmaid and younger sister Philippa in a figure-hugging white dress, and the Queen, resplendent in a very simple yellow number. Sometimes it takes an 85-year old to show what elegance means.

I watched the whole thing live on Danish TV. Although Denmark has had a continuous monarchy since before 1066, Danes also go nuts about other countries' weddings and coronations. DR1's lead commentator was mortified when she got William's uniform wrong; it's hard to imagine the BBC's being as interested in Scandinavian heraldry.

Walter Blotscher