Blog

Waiting for Paul, Waterstone's, Piccadilly, London

12th December 2005

So, Paul McCartney has (co-)written a children's book, High in the clouds, which was released a couple of months ago. He's doing a book signing on Wednesday, the entry for which is restricted to wristband holders -- and to get a wristband you had to be at the Piccadilly Waterstone's at 7.30 am today.

I got to Jermyn Street at about 4pm on Sunday afternoon and found my place in the queue amongst the other nutters standing out in the cold, along with a friend, Vicki, who I know through a Beatlesy messageboard. Vicki and I were at about 21 and 22 in the queue -- I was very surprised there weren't already a lot more people there than that but I guess the weather had put some off. The people in the queue were great; Emily, a politics student from Birmingham returned to her place in front of me from having been shopping for thermal blankets, and behind us were a group of 20/30-somethings and a lovely chap who'd flown over from Boston especially to queue to meet Paul. The queue stretched to about 40 long.

Once you'd got your place in the queue and camped out for a bit, everyone was fine about holding other people's places while they popped off for a bit, so at about 6pm I disappeared off again to catch the number 9 (really) down to the Albert Hall to meet up with Jason, Caroline and Damion, to queue outside there for the doors to open for the Bootleg Beatles gig. We got the front of the queue, and thus got the prime front/centre spot in the arena. The gig was, of course, awesome. I wish I understood how it is that I never get bored of it, but I don't think I ever will. They're just the best.

At the end of the gig I spotted some friends in the stalls and went for a chat, then Jason gave me a lift back to Piccadilly Circus for the rest of the night to begin. The queue was maybe a hundred long by this point -- still shorter than I had expected. A couple of guys from near the front of the queue had spent a few hours at the pub and had returned, a little worse for wear, with a couple of pub garden chairs. They spent the next few hours being drunk at everyone and popping backwards and forwards to BK, buying people in the queue much welcomed cups of tea and coffee. Some people got visitors in the queue -- a few lucky ones were brought hot water bottles by friends. Eventually, at about 3am, I lay down and looked up at the sky -- a few stars still visible despite the London haze and artificial light -- and dozed off for a couple of hours, protected from the chill by t-shirt, long-sleeved-t-shirt, sweatshirt, scarf, coat and sleeping bag, and with Jason's ski gear as a pillow. If I ever do this sort of thing again, I'll definitely take one of those foam camping mats; my body was warm enough but the cold from the pavement was horrible.

Awake again by 5am as London was starting to come to life -- well, it never went to sleep, really -- cars and street-sweepers and people passing by wondering what all the fuss was about. Murmerings and chat, excitement and speculation over exactly what we were queuing for -- how many wrist-bands would be available, gold ones and non-gold ones, whether the books would be pre-signed or whether Paul would do dedications, whether there'll be a reading or if maybe he'll play a song or two. The queue was considerably longer by this point -- maybe 200 or more, right down to the end of the street and round the corner. Shop staff and McCartney security turned up at about 7am and so it was time to roll up the sleeping bags and start trying to come round a bit. A woman from the press arrived, wanting to interview anybody who'd come a long way for the night -- Boston guy didn't want to talk so she wandered on down the queue.

The doors opened half an hour later and from there it was all over very quickly. There were two types of wristband; I got a blue one which guarantees entry on Wednesday -- not sure how many were given out though -- so it was all worth while. Some people from further back in the queue got yellow reserve wristbands. It's one book per wristband holder (unless you take an under-16-year-old with you in which case one each), no photos allowed and apparently Paul won't be doing dedications, just putting his squiggle in the books.

I've offered to take my friends' 11-year-old (I think) daughter along as she's dying to meet Paul too, and they've agreed to let her have the day off school. I am excited beyond belief.

[Scan]
Scan from Saturday's Guardian
[Queue]
The end of a cold night queueing for wristbands.

Photos © urban-spaceman.org