Westminster Abbey -- Evensong review

Address:

Westminster Abbey, Parliament Square, Westminster

Opening times:

9.30 AM to 4.30 PM (Mon-Tue, Thu-Fri); 9.30 AM to 7 PM (Wed); 9.30 AM to 4.30 PM (Sat, May-Aug); 9.30 AM to 2.30 PM (Sat, Sep-Apr); Closed (Sun, except for worship); Last entry 1 hour before closing

Cost:

Adults £22.00; Children £9.00 (6-16); Infants free (under-6); Family ticket £49.00

Time required:

2 hours (approx)

Parking

Car parks nearby

Train

Closest underground station

You know you're getting old when you'd rather go to a Choral Evensong at Westminster Abbey than a night out clubbing, but ah well -- I am at that stage in life now. I am officially an adult.
Let me just start off by saying that I am not religious in the slightest. I make Richard Dawkins look like the Pope. I totted up all the evidence for God and Father Christmas once, and Santa came out top -- so that gives you some idea of what I think about Jesus. But I don't think it really matters when it comes to enjoying a service at Westminster Abbey. There certainly isn't any pressure to convert. The bouncer priests don't look deep into your soul before they let you in. You don't have to sing the hymns if you don't want to (which is pretty hard when you don't know the tunes), and you don't have to shout Amen or take Holy Communion or anything like that. As long as you sit quietly and respect what's going on then I reckon even the Devil himself could get in.

The whole thing begins at the big West Door (near the shop), and I recommend that you start queuing up after 4. The tourists all get kicked out of the Abbey between 4 and half-4, and a gargantuan gathering quickly grows at the gate waiting to be let in for mass. I am guessing that about 300-400 people ended up attending my little evensong, so you can imagine what the scrum is like when they open the gate -- people surge through like they're cramming on a tube train. It's a pretty unsightly scrum for a church service. Women, children, old ladies, they all get kicked over and trampled on so bring some extra large elbows with you if you want to get a seat near the front. This is probably what it's going to be like at Armageddon -- people queuing up at the Pearly Gates fighting to get in.
If you survive the journey inside then you get ushered past the grave of the Unknown Soldier, and up the lefthand side of the Nave past Isaac Newton's memorial. Then you have a little wait for them to open up the pews. It's during this time that you can have a little look around you at the vast ceiling and memorials on the walls. You can't actually go anywhere though. You are all herded behind a rope into a very small area -- so don't think that this is a cheap way of doing some sightseeing. If you want to see the Abbey properly then you're going to have to stump up £20 quid for the tour.

The service takes place in front of the golden altar in the heart of the Abbey, which is pretty spectacular. The seats are arranged in the North and South Transpets, and the Altar and Quire stretch out either side. I was lucky enough to get near the front, so I had a great view of the famous Cosmati pavement (where William and Kate sat during their wedding service). The Quire is a series of wooden stalls with little red lampshades, and a high gold and blue background. That is where the choir sits and stands to sing. The choir for my service was from the Queen's College, Oxford. Unfortunately I wasn't so lucky with my neighbours, who proceeded to blather on about Candy Crush for half-an-hour. She even kicked off her socks and shoes to waggle her toes. The rest of the congregation seemed to be a mix of old ladies trying to pray, two hundred tourists, young kids being dragged along by their mums, and an old guy !@$% up the remains of his snuff box. It was a mixed bunch.
Whilst all of this is going on you've got the organ playing ethereal tunes in the background, which suddenly bellows up into a bone-shaking rumble as the parade of priests march in. In they come with their crosses held high, swinging the incense bottle around, leading the little old nuns and main man to the altar. I must say that the priest was incredibly young -- he only looked about thirty. How did he get a gig like that when he's only ten years out of school? He must have friends in high places.

Then the service gets going with gospels and prayers, and every now and then the crowd will break into a sing-song with the choir. You get issued with a little hymn sheet beforehand, but there is no pressure to sing. Not every song is sung by the congregation -- most of the time it will be performed by the choir alone. That's when the singing truly shines -- the choir was fantastic. The sound they make is echoed around the Abbey and seems to come at you from all directions. If my local church sounded like that every Sunday then I would have converted ages ago. It's a lot easier to believe in God when you're standing in Westminster Abbey with the Queen's College Choir sounding out.
Even when the singing stops and the priest is droning on, you can still enjoy the surroundings. I was looking up at the stained-glass windows and ceiling soaring six stories above us and it was great. You don't get the full effect when you're on a normal sightseeing tour. It's not the same thing walking around with an audio-guide plugged into your brain. But sitting there with the choir in the Quire and a thick smoggy smell of incense in your throat brings it home what this place is all about.

The whole thing lasted about an hour and was over by six. Then the priests parade out again and you are very quickly ushered out the door. There is no time for sightseeing. You end up on the front steps where the priest is waiting to say goodbye, wishing everyone peace on earth and all of that kind of thing etc. The bells are peeling high above your head ringing out the end of mass, until they slowly get drowned out by the beeping traffic and motorbikes roaring round to Parliament Square. Then you can smell the hot dog burger van that is parked ten metres from the gate.

It was definitely worth doing, without a doubt -- even if you're not religious. There's a lot to enjoy, and be moved by, if you let it.