It was a typically Highland farewell to a woman whom they considered a valued neighbor in the village streets: deeply felt, but restrained in expression. There was no applause, no spontaneous chorus of hymn or hymn as the coffin passed serenely, and all eyes were drawn eastward to follow it beyond sight. Then, as if released from a trance, the bystanders turned to wave at their friends and immediately dispersed, leaving behind the metal barriers of the crowd, taking home the weight of their loss. The Queen began her final journey through Scotland on Sunday, passing through the wrought iron gates of her beloved Balmoral estate just after 10am. and making slow and exciting progress first through the villages of Royal Deeside, and then from Aberdeen down the coast past Dundee and Perth, where tens of thousands more had gathered by the side of the busy thoroughfares. He arrived, six hours and 180 miles later, in Edinburgh to loud cheers, shouts and generous applause. The Queen’s coffin leaves Balmoral. Photo: Samir Hussein/WireImage As the group made their way up the east coast, the proclamation of the new king was read with ceremony in Edinburgh, Belfast and Cardiff, while crowds continued to flock to Buckingham Palace. King Charles and the Queen Consort were greeted by thousands of cheering well-wishers as they arrived in the early afternoon to make official engagements with Commonwealth leaders. In Ballater, crowds had gathered before 7am, with the well organized bringing supermarket bags of snacks and folding chairs. Among the first to arrive in the bitter morning chill were three generations of the Alexander family. Grandmother Elizabeth, who was born on Coronation Day and named after the Queen, had traveled from Huntly, an hour north, with her two daughters and three grandchildren, who carried their union flags almost as tight as their shared tub of sweets. People in Ballater wait for the Queen’s motorcade to pass. Photo: Hannah McKay/Reuters “The Queen has always been a part of our lives, in the summer she lives in Scotland,” Alexander said. “We saw her often locally and the community always respected her privacy. She was so relaxed here, even in how she dressed. I felt like having her as the head of this family was a constant.” Sitting alone on a bench next to Glenmuick parish church in the center of the village, Frank Groves was dressed in a dark suit and tie and held a bouquet of cream flowers tied with a black ribbon. The 70-year-old had driven from the north-east coast fishing village of Cruden Bay to Ballater, which he often visited with his wife, Jeanette, after he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Inevitably, this collective grief exacerbates his own loss from seven years earlier. “Since I was born, the Queen has been there. when I went to school, got married and when my wife passed, she was there. It almost feels like a distant relative.” Watching the casket go by was “the height of grief,” Groves observed. “But you need it to move forward. Britain won’t be the same without her.” Queen Elizabeth II’s hearse passes through Bancory, followed by a car carrying her daughter, Princess Royal. Photo: Peter Summers/Getty Images Following the coffin in the procession to Edinburgh were the Queen’s daughter, the Princess Royal, her husband Sir Tim Lawrence, a representative of the Lord Chamberlain’s Office and the minister of Crathy Kirk, the small granite church where the Queen worshiped every Sunday during the annual summer vacation in the Highlands. Spectators saw the coffin draped in the Royal Standard of Scotland. Above the brightly colored cloth was a wreath of flowers gathered from the Balmoral estate: white heather and pine fir entwined with pea, one of the Queen’s favorite flowers. “I was worried people might start clapping or throwing flowers,” said Elsbeth Henry, who had come with her friend Isa McLeod from the seaside town of Lossiemouth that morning. “But it was very respectful, just as he would have wanted.” He paused to collect himself. “It was very emotional, though. I wish I could say more, but I can’t find the words. “It would be her wish to die here,” McLeod added softly. “This was where she had her freedom. could breathe here.’ From Ballater, the team traveled east along the winding A93 through a series of villages – Aboyne, Banchory and Peterculter – where locals similarly greeted the cars with affectionate understatement, with the occasional round of applause and a few flowers thrown along the way. . Some had come in full mourning dress, others in dress or military uniform, others in more practical outdoor clothing, as the Queen preferred when she holidayed here. From this rural approach, the procession reached the A90, a dual carriageway that took the cortege south, past Dundee and then Perth, where the crowds thickened in the early afternoon sun. As the procession reached larger streets, the size and mood of the spectators also swelled. at Dundee the cars stopped on the opposite carriageway to watch the cortege pass, and by the time it reached Edinburgh crowds which had been packed deep for many hours were loudly celebrating its arrival. Crowds near Perth watch the cortege pass. Photo: Peter Summers/Getty Images But along the way, every news organization reported the same simple explanation: “We had to be here. She was our queen.” Archie Bland and Nimo Omer take you to the top stories and what they mean, free every weekday morning Privacy Notice: Newsletters may contain information about charities, online advertising and content sponsored by external parties. For more information, see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and Google’s Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply. And there in the cobbled streets of the Scottish capital, from midday the international crowds were suffocating. The numbers on the Royal Mile were, all agreed, the thickest and deepest the Royal Mile had ever seen, and more than those present for the opening of the Scottish Parliament in 1999. When the procession reached its destination at Edinburgh’s Palace of Holyroodhouse after more than six hours, the Queen’s children and their spouses – Princess Royal and Vice-Admiral Sir Tim Laurence, the Duke of York and the Earl and Countess of Wessex – watched by soldiers from the Royal Regiment of Scotland carried the coffin into the palace. In a touching gesture, respect for the monarch was still observed, with royal women bowing and men bowing their heads. The group arrives on Edinburgh’s Royal Mile. Photo: WPA/Getty Images Everywhere there was friendliness, people making new acquaintances, tourists telling where to go for food or drink. Even those hit by the many roads, unable to make it home, took things in their stride. The police presence was heavy but friendly. Adriana De La Torre, 40, a lawyer from Orlando, Florida, secured herself a prime seat on the Royal Mile for the day’s events because she wanted to see history. “I’m a big fan of the royals. We don’t have that kind of unifying figure in the states where everyone comes together, you just have the two parties. Her dedication to service is outstanding and something to celebrate.” The cortege makes its way along the Royal Mile. Photo: Anadolu Agency/Getty Images Edinburgh will remain at the center of royal events until the Queen’s coffin flies to London from the city’s airport on Tuesday as Operation Unicorn, the code name for contingency plans should the Queen die in Scotland, continues. On Monday, King Charles III will begin a tour of all four nations of the United Kingdom, traveling first to Edinburgh, where he will accompany the Queen’s coffin as it travels in procession to St Giles’ Cathedral to lie in repose for 24 hours. Members of the public will be able to see her coffin there. The king will then return to the Palace of Holyroodhouse, where he will hold an audience with Scotland’s first minister, Nicola Sturgeon, and later attend the Scottish Parliament, where they will receive an offer of condolence. In the evening, King Charles will hold a vigil with members of the royal family at St Giles’ Cathedral. The group passes by St Giles’ Cathedral, where the Queen’s coffin will return on Monday to rest for 24 hours. Photo: Christopher Furlong/Getty Images Back in Ballater, parish minister Rev David Barr reflected on the Queen’s special affinity with his village. “When she passed through these gates, she became a wife, a mother, then a grandmother, no longer a Queen. Even as a child he had this freedom. she could play with her sister and their ponies and not worry about cameras or intrusion. They could be children and that feeling stuck with her.” The privacy that allows such unique freedom is what the locals here guard so fiercely. Even in the midst of national turmoil and international focus, in Ballater restraint is supreme: “She’s our neighbor – so we don’t talk about her,” said one man on the eve of the cortege, with a polite shake of the head. “We were honored to be her neighbors,” Barr said. “But she was more than just a neighbor. was stable. And in thanks for that service, the little thing we could do was extend that normality to the local village.” Taking a dig at the buzzing global media, he added: ‘We’ll talk more now, but in a few weeks, come and ask me if I’ve seen a member of the royal family. Even with my…
