So that’s my challenge to you this weekend, find something mundane, but look at it in a new way and find the beauty in it. If you feel like sharing a photo with me, that would be lovely. Either pop it in the comments below, or send me a tweet to @RadioKate and use the hashtag #nowpic. Have fun.

The Eternal Cycle of Life

Rivet Rivet

Animal print on a manhole cover

(B)US

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed it’s the only thing that ever has.”

Margaret Mead

I thought that I would start with that quote, it’s a nice positive thought, something to remember at times like these. It’s the start of the new year and we’re meant to be all shiny and new and positive right?

I felt pretty happy this morning, striding out of the house unexpectedly early and noting a man carrying a toolbox in one hand and a sombrero in the other. It’s going to be a jolly quirky day I thought. Then reality hit and I once again found myself on an overcrowded National Express East Anglia train attempting to minimise the bruising to my leg as I jauntily crashed against a table whilst wildly grabbing at anything that might enable me to remain upright on the 0839 service to Liverpool Street.

I wasn’t the only one struggling. There were no handrails within reach, the luggage rack was set far back above the tables and the seat tops blocked by several other sardines passengers attempting to breathe/to get to work. Yesterday ticket prices went up by an average of almost 6%, and what do I get for this increase? A decrease in the number of rush hour trains, and a sorry looking hand-me-down train from the Stansted Express route. That’s why there are no hand-holds, this train is not designed to be as overcrowded as it finds itself of this new route, the runt of the litter, left with a random assortment of trains that other routes have seemingly grown out of.

The old timetable had two trains, the 0837 and the 0842 express service from Walthamstow to Liverpool St. Now we all have to settle for the 0839, and pay more to boot. I felt somewhat indignant about it this morning, especially since National Express East Anglia are happy to shell out money employing “revenue protection” officers, but not handrails! I asked the revenue protection guy (politely) what could be done. He replied “pick up a pile of complaint forms from over there and get people to fill them in. They’ll have to listen to you then”. Would they ignore my lone complaint if I wrote in?, I enquired. “Well, no” he said, “they do read them all, but there’s a new operator coming in in February and they’ll be looking at what works and what doesn’t and hopefully they will make some changes”.

After some haggling*, I came away from the Information point at Liverpool Street with a pile of forms and an ambition to do something.

This evening, after another delayed service out of Liverpool Street and some (corrected when prompted) misinformation from the National Express East Anglia Twitter account (@NXEastAnglia) I decided to strike. I caught the eye of another weary passenger without a seat and explained what happened this morning, and how we could perhaps do something about it. Other ears pricked up, I handed out some more forms, I even offered to post one (to the Freepost address) for a chap who somewhat reluctantly filled the form in too. When we finally arrived at Walthamstow, I asked for a bunch more to replenish my stock. I feel energised. I am actually going to do something. I’m not just going to moan about things, I’m going to do my little bit to try to make them better. I’m going to encourage as many people to fill in these forms and send them in as possible. I am going to do my best to get someone, somewhere, to sit up and take notice of the people who use the services, pay for the services and frequently get let down by the services. Are you with me? Come on.. it’ll only take a moment or two and think how good you’ll feel being one of a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens who are changing the world. Let’s go!

How to make a difference

Okay – if you’d like your voice heard, it’s as simple as asking for a National Express East Anglia complaint form from the ticket office or information point at your station, filling it in, and posting it off.

You could also share this blog via Twitter or Facebook or write one of your own, or perhaps you’d be brave enough to carry a stash of complaint forms to give people on trains too!

Not sure what you’d write?

How about commenting on how the new timetable has affected your journeys – do you miss the additional express service like I do?

Have you been delayed? Were you given enough information about what was happening – or just left sitting there while the Stansted Express route took line priority again?

Perhaps you’ve struggled on a busy train? Or want to comment on the state of the trains themselves?

Or maybe you’re just fed up that despite your journey taking over twice as long as it should, you still can’t claim even half a refund since you’d have to have been delayed a whole 30 minutes (on a just a 17 minute journey remember) to even be in with the chance of any sort of refund.

Come up people – speak up. Let’s do something, let’s make something happen.

* “Can I have a pile of NXEA complaint forms please?

He hands me one.

“Sorry, no, the chap over there said I should ask for a pile”

Blank look. “How many do you want?”

“A pile?” I gesture with my fingers the thickness of the sort of pile I was thinking…

Blank look.

“More than one.”

He slides over another.

“Oh, er, more than two? You know, a bunch, a pile, a lot”

Finally gives me some more…

Update one:

I raised this issue with our local MP Stella Creasy and she kindly got in touch with Abellio who are taking the franchise. They replied to some of my questions and agreed that I could share that with you on the blog (apologies for the delay in updating, I’ve been very busy). Here’s what their Director of Public Affairs had to say:

1)    Express trains in the rush hour: As you may be aware, the new franchise is a short term (2.5 year) contract under which the Department for Transport specified that bidders could not propose changes in the timetable. We will, however, be running maximum length services during the peak and taking steps to encourage passengers to make use of the full length of every train. We will also be introducing a colour coded timetable to help passengers identify easily which services will be the most crowded. Often trains just outside, or on the shoulder of the peak are lightly loaded and these can be a good option for some passengers. The only opportunity, however, to make major changes to the timetable and the capacity of the trains will be under the next franchise, which will be a 15 year contract running from summer 2014.

2)   Improve the trains: We are aware of the condition of the rolling stock not only on the West Anglia line but across the network. We’ll be implementing a deep clean programme from Day One of the franchise (5^th February) and will roll this out across the whole network. As with the timetable, however, the only opportunity to make a step change in the condition of the Anglia fleet will come under the next (15 year) franchise.

3)   Making the service itself more reliable: We will be working very closely with Network Rail over the next 2.5 years to improve overall reliability and where possible alleviate the impact of the major engineering works which will continue through the lifetime of this short franchise. We have already held excellent and constructive talks with the new Network Rail Route Director, Dave Ward, and the development of a strong working relationship with Network Rail will be crucial if we are to convince the DfT and passengers that Abellio is the best company to manage the long term franchise. I hope the benefits of this strong working relationship will be reflected in improved reliability for passengers.

I hope this is helpful. The short term nature of the franchise makes it impossible to invest in the major programmes which would deliver the upgrades the network needs, but I hope that over the coming years we will demonstrate to passengers and stakeholders that Abellio is the company to deliver that programme when the long term franchise gets underway.

I had a couple of follow-up questions for him asking whether they would be following NXEA’s summer timetable too (which includes the express service) since they can’t change the timetable and one other about checking carriages for suitability for carrying lots of passengers/adding handrails to those that aren’t.

I was told that the December 11th timetable will be the operating timetable until the next change in December this year, so there will be changes in the summer and invited to contact him again when they take over the franchise in mid February regarding the carriages. It was nice that they took the time to respond to these concerns and is much appreciated.

Update two:

National Express East Anglia responded to my comment form with the following:

Thank you for your Comments Form received 11th January.

I’m sorry to hear that our service has failed to meet your expectation. A review of the new timetable will take place in May, but it is unlikely that any changes will be made before the end of our franchise.

As we near the end of  this rail franchise on 4th Feb 2012, I would like to assure you that your feedback will be logged and shared with our management team enabling them to, where possible, avoid a similar situation in the future.

Thank you for taking the time to contact us.

Once again, thank you for contacting us.

This does leave me wondering about the review of the timetable in May. Who is doing that and why? I mean, if, as Abellio state, they are not allowed to change the timetable for the next 2.5 years, what is the point? Also, surely but not adopting the summer timetable they are making changes? Or am I missing something here? I shall endeavour to find out, and of course let you know.

It started with a piece asking why “The Media” isn’t covering the famine in Somalia any more (maybe there are only so many images of emaciated children you can show, suggested Humphries). It’s an interesting question, but the way they asked it seemed to take Today themselves out of the spotlight. “The media” they said. Well I’m sure the last time I checked, the Today Programme was a part of “The Media” too. In fact I thought they prided themselves in setting the agenda for the day. They certainly seemed pleased with themselves when their RAJAR figures went up, airing an entirely pointless segment about their success, in which they asked the question “is it because there is more news?”. This led me to conclude that the answer was “no” else they wouldn’t have run the piece in question.

So back to the original point, why isn’t “The Media” covering Somalia more? Well how about we get your Editors to explain their decisions on coverage rather than smugly berating everyone else? I might have let that slip, but the rest of the programme was filled with endless talk of, and trailers for coverage of the tenth anniversary of 9/11. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not belittling the significance of the event, it was shocking, yes, people died, yes, it had a global impact, yes, but it was ten years (minus six days) ago and there are people in the world dying now.

When it got to a piece about choosing a soundtrack to the atrocity I was bewildered. Since when did we set terrorism to music? I was only half listening (while I shouted at the radio) so it was only later that I found out this was a story about something that New York Public Radio had done, but that’s beside the point. (As is the fact that it was a nicely crafted radio package.) The point is that they spent precious minutes of peak airtime discussing the anniversary of something six days before the anniversary itself. I’d already heard a piece last week about a play being staged about 9/11 which made me wonder if it had it been a play about anything else would it have got past the editors?

Jem Stone (head of social media & syndication at the BBC) responded to my criticism on Twitter by saying “It’s a long standing media convention to stretch & go early on significant anniversaries. Not confined to BBC”. That doesn’t make it right though – and just because everyone else is doing it, doesn’t mean that Today should. The Today programme plays a major role in setting the news agenda (and the political agenda at times) so instead of asking why no-ones covering the famine, and then spending so much time on the not-yet anniversary of 9/11, perhaps they should be setting the standard for other media organisations to follow.

Marc Blank-Settle from the BBC College of Journalism also commented on Twitter, raising the point that “it’s like an arms-race not to be last, which means programmes do it earlier and earlier”. He may have hit the nail on the head. No-one wants to feel like the last to be reporting something, especially in news, but then again, are anniversaries “news” in the traditional sense? They can be a remembrance, celebration, or sometimes a simplistic news hook for a PR story. There can be some interesting retrospectives, but essentially they are about something that has already happened. There may be current activity around an anniversary, but is there really a need to start so early? Nevermind pictures of emaciated children, maybe it’s the phrase “in the run-up to the tenth anniversary of 9/11” that I can only take so much of.

Yes 9/11 was a big deal, but if we’ve got this much coverage six days before the anniversary what’s going to happen on the day? Will all other news be suspended while we look back at what happened? I’d love to know what other stories were dropped in favour of the 9/11 piece this morning. Perhaps the Editors might like to respond on the Editors Blog on the BBC site (though I of course invite them to comment below too) and let us know just how much more coverage they intend to give the anniversary before it actually arrives, and when they’ll next be covering the famine again.

Without further ado, let me introduce Will, Will, Will, William, Will, Billy, William, Will, William and William!

William number one

Two-year old William, waving his flag beside the Mall the evening before the wedding

William Number two

William number two was outside Westminster Abbey before heading to Hyde Park to locate a Gin Palace, which he invited me to.

William number three

My third William was the lively Delores William. I hadn’t thought to look for a female William, but she spotted the sign on my back and came to talk to me on the way to Trafalgar Square (which they then shut due to overcrowding). Delores is also an Audioboo fan and you can hear her stuff here.

William number four

William number four was spotted in a crowd after a couple of chaps filming a YouTube video for their World of the Orange channel, who were helping me out, decided that he looked like he should be called William. “William!” they calle, and he looked round. We were all rather shocked for a moment, but he showed us his credit cards and proved it really is his name!

William number five

My fifth William was outed by his friends at the Battersea High Street royal wedding street party. They were having a fine old time drinking champagne and getting into the spirit of the day. My first Irish William.

Williams six, seven *and* eight!

Wow, you wait for ages and then three come along at once! Battersea High Street scored me three-for-the-price-of-one on the William front. Joy!

Photo courtesy of Andrew West, @Krypto

William number nine

I headed over to Green Park in the search for my last to Williams. The first group I stopped to ask had a bona fide William among their midst, but had obviously toasted the royal couple numerous times during the afternoon. A quick interivew and then a dash away from the leering and the drunken comments…

William number ten – success!

Over the Hyde Park and I chose one last group to try to find my final Will. Bingo! Bright pink trouser wearing William number ten. I was even offered a plastic cup of cider. Phew! Job well done.

Phew! One tired @RadioKate! Follow more audio from my adventures at Audioboo.fm/RadioKate

Hair up, tiara on, wedding dress in bag, I ventured to the Mall. St John’s Ambulances lined up in a street beside the Mall. TV crews set up their kit half way up the steps to Waterloo Place. People were split into groups of no-nonsense Londoners on their way home, and cheery flag-wavers, chattering excitedly amongst themselves about what would happen along this famous road 18 hours later.

People were camped along the side of the road, cup cakes and wine on make-shift tables. Three generations of one family, proudly sporting royal masks and re-telling their story to a host of passers-by, photographers and journalists.

We walked round to Westminster, to see who was outside the abbey. These were the hardcore campers, they staked their claim on bits of pavement a week ago in some cases.

The idea was to take one photo outside Westminster Abbey in my dress, and see if I could find a William or two.

I lost my nerve. Suddenly the reality of what I was doing was starting to sink in. I must be mad. I mean, I am a bit mad, granted, I push the envelope, but even by my standards this was crazy…

Audioboo boss Mark Rock steadied my nerves with a rum and coke (double) in St Stephen’s Tavern. While there I got talking to some exuberant Americans that had flown in for the wedding. The sight of Kevin’s sequined union jack waistcoat, apparently only a small part of his royal wedding outfit was enough to convince me I wasn’t the only one who’d look stupid. I headed down the stairs to the pub toilets and came (sheepishly) back up as #WeddingKate. It took a bit less explaining that I thought it would as I re-entered the upstairs bar, bedecked as I was, in a full-on wedding gown. I got more smiles than roll-your-eyes stares (which is probably what I would have done had the situation been reversed). Maybe royal wedding fever really had finally reached the capital, or perhaps all those who wanted no part of it wouldn’t be found within several miles of its epicentre and were thus absent.

6pm, Westminster Abbey, the night before the wedding

It was time to make a move. With my big dark red winter coat on to keep me warm, Me, Mark and the slightly inebriated Americans headed over to the Abbey.

I guess I should have realised there would be a bustling crowd of tourists taking photos, but it somehow hadn’t occurred to me that I was about to become a tourist attraction.

A crowd appeared around me, I held up my ‘Are you Will?’ sign. We actually found one. He was off to go camping in Hyde Park with his friends. I was invited to join them at a gin palace later on. I found a friendly policeman and asked if he was called Will. “No” he said, “but I could be”. “Brilliant!” I replied, and promptly produced my “I could be William” sign.

Another wave of tourists magically surrounded me. I was tapped on the shoulder and there was a Will look-alike. It was a very odd alternate version of London.

Everyone was in good spirits. Instead of being ridiculed (as I feared) I was in fact being complimented on the dress. It was crazy, but I had fun. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves too. Mark and I took a stroll alongside the tent village in front of the media stands opposite the Abbey. I was offered a place to stay for the night, if I promised to keep the dress on. I was interviewed by a lady from CNN. People held up large home-made top trumps comparing Prince William and David Beckham. It was utter madness, all dressed in red, white and blue.

Normally I’d think these people were crazy, but there was such a warmth of spirit that I actually considered joining them. Not so much for the wedding itself, but for the atmosphere and modern-day version of the togetherness that epitomised the blitz spirit.

Back at the pub, I did another superman-esque cubicle change and then bumped into a young boy with Union flags on his face. “I’m sorry”, said his mother, “I think that he thought you were Kate”. I laughed and said if only he’d seen me moments before I would have looked like a much more convincing princess, but that I really am called Kate. Upon hearing this, they young boy, no more than five-years old, announced that he was “Prince Charming William King”, put his hands on my arms, and asked me to marry him. It was incredibly adorable, and had I not been dashing down to the loo to get changed I would have been able to share some audio or photos with you. I think though, this will remain our special moment.

Finally out of the wedding dress I was able to relax a little and meet up with my friend Patrick (he of #SpaceNomad saviour fame) who was over in  London for a short break. After some beer (and some serious explaining) we took a final stroll around tent-city by the Abbey. The atmosphere was so friendly that we seriously considered dashing home for the tent, but settled on a fresh naan bread and proper beds for the night. A wise decision all told.

7am, The big day

I didn’t really need my alarm to wake me. A combination of insomnia and paranoia about sleeping on the wrong side and thus messing up my hair meant I’d been partially awake for most of the night. Nevertheless as it rang I attempted to spring into action. I was already exhausted, which didn’t bode well for the day ahead, but there were signs to be made and printers to contend with.

After an extensive battle with my computer, some glue, and the zip on my dress, I was finally ready to go. I tucked my signs under my arm and set off.

Now central London would be a-buzz with royal wedding fever, I had already experienced that last night. Walthamstow on the other hand was most definitely not.

Grabbing a quick bite at the station shop I felt distinctly ridiculous. (An element of which could probably have been avoided if I hadn’t inexplicably chosen a veggie samosa as my sustenance of choice.)

People handed out union flags branded with a mobile phone company logo at the station, but no-one seemed particularly interested. Ignoring my outfit, the journey was like any other tube ride, with people keeping themselves to themselves and nobody daring to make eye contact.

We switched lines at Finsbury Park and found a much busier train. A few stops in and people starting chatting. A lady got in wearing a cow-girl-esque red, white and blue ensemble. This was more like it, that friendly spirit was back and we exchanged stories about how we’d come to be here.

I left Patrick to meet his American college pals and headed to Piccadilly where I hoped to meet Andrew West, a friend who had agreed to come and be my photographer and provide moral (and psychological!) support.

Andrew was already packed in with the crowds in Trafalgar Square, but on my way there I had to stop and do an interview for Jim Hawkins on BBC Shropshire. The first thing he asked me was “What are you doing?”, a question, I had to confess, that I’d been asking myself all morning.

I headed toward the crowds and felt somewhat relieved to encounter Rose and Martha, who had braved the streets in eighties bridesmaids dresses. I stopped to chat to them and we got somewhat waylaid by passers-by demanding photographs.

In an attempt to upload my audio, sort out my coat, bag and dress, I stopped for a moment. Cue more interest in the “Are you Will?” sign, now hanging on my back.

I was just metres away from Trafalgar Square when the voice that came over the loud speakers announced that the square was now closed. No one else would be allowed in.

The wedding was due to start and you could hear the cheers as people caught the first glimpse of Kate and her dress arriving at the Abbey.

I made friends with a couple of guerilla filmmakers who were shooting their mini royal wedding epic “Return of the King“. Realising I wasn’t going to get too far on my own, I joined them on a walk to Green Park. With some much needed help carrying the train of my dress (plus my coat) I joked that I’d found my page boys.

We got a guardsman (replete with big furry hat) to smile as we held up the “I could be William” sign in front of him and then struck gold with a William by randomly calling out the name.

The crowds around Green Park were crazy. That was also shut and the only option left was Hyde Park. Meanwhile Andrew was attempting to find me and just laughed when I looked surprised at him finding me. “Luckily you’re not to hard to spot in a crowd” he said.

I’d promised I’d get myself down to Battersea to do an interview with BBC London 94.9 who were doing a live broadcast from the street party being held in Battersea High Street.

Andrew and I set off and whilst we were on the train I got him to update me on what I’d missed. Since I couldn’t get into Trafalgar Square I hadn’t actually seen the wedding itself.

As the train pulled in to Battersea I fumbled with the train of my dress. Before we knew it we were moving again, on the train, away from Battersea. Lucky for us the next stop was close and we jumped off at Clapham.

Shattered, we sat and recharged both ourselves and our phones over a glass of lemonade and a chocolate chip cookie. Not quite the royal wedding breakfast my namesake would be feasting upon, but enjoyable all the same.

1.30pm Battersea High Street

A full on street party at last! Tables lined up along the centre of the street, people eating, drinking and having fun together. A big screen next to BBC London’s outside broadcast routemaster bus showed highlights of the wedding. People drinking Pimms sat on the road in front of the screen.

I wandered further down the street, past food vendors and bars with their doors and windows flung open wide.

There were community groups with cake stalls, free salsa lessons and a couple of small fairground attractions.

I found a new William, a jovial Irish guy enjoying the sunshine with a group of friends sporting royal wedding masks. He agreed to be interviewed and I began to envy their seats and champagne. We continued on down the street.

At the end of the road a small crowd was gathered around a stage. Despite the compere’s best efforts to rouse them the response to his question “are we all having a good time today?” was muted.

This felt more like the sort of cynical London I’m used to. It’s not that people didn’t seem to be enjoying themselves, they were just a bit more reticent to admit that it was down to the royal wedding.

I could hear some muttering about the sign on my back and turned round to just as a drunk guy exclaimed “I’m not Will, but I am willin’!”. Ahem, moving swiftly on..,

My next encounter was infinitely better. Having read the sign on my back I’d been alerted to the fact I was in the presence of a Will. As I excitedly checked whether he was really called Will someone else in the group said “I’m called William too” adding that “he’s called Billy too”. Billy’s birth certificate apparently has his official name as William, so there it was: three Williams for the price of one. Brilliant!

I began to feel a bit dizzy. It was a warm enough day and I’d walked a fair old way in my wedding ensemble. A wave of exhaustion enveloped me and I became very single-minded about sitting down in a place with food. I looked mournfully at the long tables laid out in the street. Every chair was taken. I drooled as a lady walked by with a fresh looking chicken baguette of deliciousness. There was nothing for it, I asked where she’d purchased such a fine morsel and headed straight there.

I found an empty table at the back of the bar an Andrew gallantly went forth to brave the crowds clustered around their outdoor grill. Inside the place it actually looked like it could be a wedding reception, the bit just after dinner when you decamp to the hotel bar, but before the disco has begun.

I sat down at the table, plugged my gadgets in to charge and then felt somewhat awkward. It were as though I’d just jilted the groom and was stuck in a room with his distant relatives (the close friends and family picking up the pieces). I was sat alone in the corner in a wedding dress, physically and emotionally drained, and with little recollection as to how I’d got there.

Thankfully it didn’t take too long for food to arrive (and be eagerly consumed) and I began to feel more human again. I wondered how the other Kate was getting on. Moments later she appeared on the large flat screen television in the bar, being driven in a rather nice Austin Martin by her posh prince. Beats the underground I suppose…

Sandwich eaten, champers enjoyed, phones (somewhat) charged, it was time to move on. Just two more Williams to find and then I’d be triumphant. How hard could it be?

Very hard, it turned out. Despite a call out on BBC London, it appeared I’d exhausted the supply of Williams in Battersea. I rested myself aboard BBC London’s converted routemaster bus and tried to summon the energy to continue.

There was only one thing for it, we had to head back into town. Trundling back along the road to the station we hatched a plan.

6pm, Green Park

The hoards of people present earlier had melted away to their hotels, sightseeing, pubs or homes. There were still quite a number of hardy picnickers dotted across the grass though.

My strategy, find a group, weigh up the likelihood they’d talk to me or might contain a William, take a deep breath and smile. My first target, a group of guys dressed in partial fancy dress with military style jackets. Bingo! My hunch was right, securing me William number nine. What I hadn’t quite accounted for was the fact it was now quite late in what (for this group at least) had been an excuse to drink all day. Having chosen a group which contained no females I left myself open to a lot of drunken leering, which was not fun. I’d have to be more careful with the next group.

6.30pm, Hyde Park

The first thing that caught my eye when I arrived at Hyde Park was the lady in a wedding dress. Whew! I’m not the only crazy fool in a wedding dress! I felt somewhat vindicated by this. A day before I embarked on the challenge a good friend had warned me in no uncertain terms that I would be a laughing stock, adding that if I went through with it, it was “your funeral”.

I’d been most upset by this, considering calling it off, but I was too deep in. It was already on the Audioboo website, my blog and the PR company had been using it as an example when they spoke to newspapers. Not to mention I’d just picked up a wedding dress, specially fitted to me. What could I do? Everyone else was excited by the idea, thought it was a bit of fun, but this was a good friend, someone I respect and trust. I just wish he’d been able to give me some constructive advice on how to limit any damage since I was now committed.

I knew what I was doing was crazy. I knew it was silly. I knew people might think I’d lost the plot, but up until then I had also been about 75% sure that I could pull it off. Yes, of course I was scared and doubted everything I was doing, but I thought I could do this, make something happen. Hearing those words from my friend “it’s your funeral”, I panicked, maybe I was going to, as he suggested, offend people. Maybe they wouldn’t take it in the spirit it was meant, a bit of fun. I hated that thought, I don’t like upsetting people.

All day I’d been worrying about what he’d said, even as people laughed and smiled with me, took photos and chatted, agreed to be interviewed. All day I just wanted to do a good job so that I didn’t lose the respect of my friend.

When I saw another lady in a wedding dress, with her husband dolled up in a red military jacket, I felt better. They weren’t taking the piss, they were full on royalists and having a great day. Like me, she’d been complimented on her dress, photographed and seemed to be having a busy, but wonderful time. I finally started to relax about whether people would find my actions offensive. Now, just to find that final William.

I was tired. I mean really tired. All I could think about was lying flat on the grass and staying there for a very long time. But not yet. I had been set a challenge, and I’m not one to give up easily. In order to hold my head up high I needed to find that final William.

Walking across Hyde Park my feet felt like they were made of lead. Did I really have it in me to approach another group? I had to laugh as a group of girls shouted out “Kate! You bitch! You stole my prince!”. They were actually very friendly and came to have a photograph with me.

I spotted a group of about 12 people. Quickly scoping them out I decided that whilst they were probably (at best) “merry”, they were at worst posh drunks. I could handle them.

Hoping against hope that one of them would be called Will, I took a deep breath and approached them. Admittedly they looked at me as though I were crazy, but they heard me out. What’s more, William number ten was among them. Hallelujah!

William number ten was resplendent in pink trousers. He explained he’d lost a bet and I realised that standing there in a wedding dress I was in no position to judge. It it weren’t for the fact his friends were so keen for me to do so, I could have kissed him. I was so relieved to have completed my challenge. I was offered a drink, for the first time all day, but given they’d moved from Pimms to cheap cider in plastic cups I politely declined.

I stumbled a few feet away and collapsed on the grass. I’d taken on the challenge and I was triumphant. All that was left was to find me way home and escape from the dress, which turned out to be easier said than done.

10pm, The Nag’s Head

As if my day hadn’t been random enough already, I headed out with Andrew for a victory drink.

The local pub, unable to ignore the royal wedding, and yet unwilling to celebrate it, had gone for a wedding event with a decidedly feline twist. That day, the pub’s two resident cats had had a marriage of their own, and this was the focus of their celebrations. A wedding disco, wedding cake, special cat-print outfits for the staff and a modified royal wedding flag with eats and whiskers. It was partly bonkers and partly brilliant, but I was more than happy to nod, smile, and enjoy a well-earned pint.

What a day!

- There’s a royal wedding
- It’s a moment of history
- I don’t really care too much about a couple of strangers getting married, but…
- I want an excuse to be part of the fun

Thus was born #weddingkate. A slightly crazy plan that involved me donning a wedding dress and hitting the streets of London to meet people called Will. All the while interviewing people using Audioboo and reporting on the atmosphere in central London and at street parties.

I hit upon the idea whilst sat in a PR meeting at work, somewhat stupidly blurted it out and was then told I should go for it.

With less than 48 hours until the wedding itself I was now faced with a challenge. How would I, never having been close to married, go about locating a wedding dress? I turned to Twitter for advice, and clever beans that my followers are, was instantly given a few ideas. Sophia Collins even offered to lend one of her three dresses (which she assured me were a result of enjoying dressing up, rather than multiple weddings of her own). Sadly they were located in Bristol and Edinburgh…

Next stops included fancy dress shops, charity shops, and finally a trip to Finsbury Park’s Fonthill Road (girls, if you need ball gowns on a budget, start here).

Listen to my dress finding adventure here.

Salvation came in the form of Dynasty. Their Aladdin’s cave of colourful dresses is something to be seen. Upstairs another marvel, as wedding dresses hang from all sides. I thought I was onto a winner with their offer of dresses for £35, but of course that didn’t include the real deal wedding gowns.

After a slightly embarrassing conversation where I admitted what I was up to, I was put on the phone to the boss. He agreed they’d sort me out with a rental dress. Game on.

It was very odd trying on a wedding dress with no wedding, but ultimately a lot of fun. Their tailor, Despina, made some alterations to fit the dress perfectly to me. I was beginning to feel like a princess. The team at Dynasty were great, and even threw in a tiara to finish the look. #WeddingKate was on her way.

Back in the office it was demanded that I show off the dress. Cue very odd couple of hours answering Audioboo user questions whilst being careful not to roll my chair over the train of the dress. Even a game of table football!

Next stop was The Powder Room in Soho, where the lovely Powder Puff girls worked their magic on my hair. What a cute place it is, black and white chequered floor, 1950s feel and all the staff wear cute sugar-pink outfits to fit the theme.

The Powder Room, London

I have to say I was somewhat nervous about what they were doing to my hair to begin with (see pic!), but they somehow managed to transform me from scarecrow to Hepburn (the style they chose is the ‘Audrey’) in less than 20 minutes. All with some chilled out jazz in the background. Can’t complain.

More help was at hand, in the form of photographer Andrew West, who agreed to join me on my mad quest on Friday. There was no turning back, Wedding Kate was on – and what’s more, I’d been set the challenge of meeting 10 people called William…
So where next? Westminster Abbey of course, and that’s where the real story begins…

OR, do I find a way of doing something utterly ridiculous that gives me the excuse to go to street parties, but pretend that I’m not taking it seriously? Now then, there’s an idea creeping in.

Prince William is marrying Catherine, or Kate as people other than me (because it’s my name) call her. Well, what if I went on my own quest to find a Will on Friday? What if I did it wearing a wedding dress, went party hopping, and Audioboo-ed my progress? It’s probably entirely crazy, but that’s never stopped me before…

Do you think I could find someone to lend me a wedding dress, someone to sponsor some champagne to take along to street parties, and asked people to suggest places to visit? In return I could keep an Audio diary of my exploits and share with you a collection of photos of people I meet called Will. It might be ridiculous, but it would certainly be fun.

I’m working on the idea at the moment. But if you happen to know anyone who might lend me a wedding dress (preferably from this afternoon so I can take a silly photo in front of Westminster Abbey) or is arranging a street party of any kind, that I can crash, please let me know. Leave a comment below or tweet me @RadioKate

Last week I attended the national Student Radio Conference, hosted by Crush Radio in Hertfordshire. It was, as I somewhat worringly realised (just before I gave my talk as part of the ‘Future Technology of Radio’ panel) , about 11 years since I first attended a Student Radio Conference as Station Manager of Cambridge University Radio.

A lot has changed since I was doing student radio. The industry has seen significant changes, mainly in the form of mergers, shop assistants now understand what DAB radio is, and social media has developed into a welcome broadcast partner.

The media industry (like many others) is being squeezed at the moment. Newspaper circulation is falling and even the might BBC World Service has suffered depressingly large cuts thanks to the government’s (in my opinion ill-advised) move to cut its funding.

Student radio at the best of times isn’t exactly flushed with cash, so how is student radio surviving in an era of cuts and multimedia distractions?

Michael Hill, MD of UK Radio Player

As I listened to the other members of my panel speak, I realised that now is a fantastic time of opportunity for student radio. Students are moer likely to be au fait with, and natural users of some of the emerging technology that radio traditionalists are stuggling to grasp. They are better placed to understand their audiences, because they are their own audience, and with the offers put on the table by Pete Downton (Imagination technologies) and Michael Hill (MD, UK Radio Player) I was excited (and maybe a little jealous).

I really hope that those present in that session a) realised what a big deal those offers were, and b) act on it immediately.

I should take a step back and explain. When I was involved in student radio I was writing letters of interest to be included on a potential local DAB multiplex and campaigning for student radio stations to be able to apply for community licences. My committee and I worked tirelessly to prove that the university owned a particular contiguous area of land that would allow to apply for a Low-Powerd AM licence. We got it, but then found a whole host of students had no idea how to tune into AM on their stereos. It was still a big step for us to becoming a “proper” radio station.

The current crop of student radio die-hards are being offered not only the chance to be listed on Pure’s Lounge (available via their internet-connected DAB radios), but also the chance to get onto UK Radio Player. The major shareholders in UK Radio Player are the BBC and UK commercial radio sector and the aim is to provide a uniform online radio listening platform to encourage radio listening. Users are able to enter search terms which will then return a list of stations or shows that match. Imagine having your student radio station just a search term away from Radio 1. It’s a fantastic opportunity.

One of the big beefs of the commercial radio industry is that there is not a “level playing field” in UK radio. What they mean is that the BBC has the lion’s share of national frequencies. Student Radio could never hope to have a national FM frequency, but by being a part of the UK Radio Player they would be listed alongside the most listened to and influential stations this country has to offer.

There’s more. Metadata is essential for searchability, but many professional stations are lagging on this front. It’s hard to convince people that they need to add more detail, they are used to doing a job they know, why would they want to do something extra? Student stations, if they were clever, would exploit this point and ensure they are immediately on the ball with tagging their content. The more they tag, the more likely there are to turn up in search results. In a multimedia world, findability is key.

Note for Station Managers: It’s worth keeping an eye out for when your university is in the news. If you can be reactive to what’s going on, in real time, while people are interested in your university then this could be a good way to score listeners or media coverage. (Alternatively, be careful, if the media suddenly realise that your student station could be a source for juicy stories, you could be in for an interesting ride with the university press office!)

If those aren’t enough reason to get excited, then what about the amazing advances in technology that mean you no longer need the best quality recording equipment to produce compelling content? I told a story about my time in student radio, when I saved up all the money I had and bought myself a decent minidisc recorder. That was the future.

One day I was too ill to do my show and I so I called the studio and asked the previous presenter to cover me. Moments later I noticed that the college my window looked out on was on fire! An ancient Cambridge college being on fire is actually a decent news story. I rang the studio (after the fire brigade) and gave a live report. My next step was to dash out with my minidisc recorder and get an interview with the firemen who turned up. I was immensely proud to be on the scene before Anglia News, but how could I get my content on air? There was nothing for it. I had to run up the hill, clutching the minidisc and the “breaking news” and physically deliver it to the studio. So much for being ill. It was exciting, yes. Efficient? Not at all.

Nowadays I could have just grabbed my smartphone, interviewed the fireman, taken his photo, added tags and a title and sent it immediately to the interwebs thanks to Audioboo. Now I feel slightly uncomfortable talking about how awesome Audioboo is, given that they are now paying me, but I have been using them for the last two years and saying the same thing, so I hope you’ll forgive me.

Audioboo gives student stations a fantastic opportunity to build up a reporting team who can deliver real time news, simply and easily. My student station only had one studio. That meant there was no way to edit news packages or interviews or anything like that. I find that Audioboo trains you to get it right the first time, record a short but interesting interview in the time that you are given. You don’t need to panic too much about it being perfect because you can just mess around on your phone, but that practice means that when it needs to be perfect, you’re much better placed to do an “as live” interview.

So there are three things that make me both excited for and jealous of the people that are doing student radio now. The fact that if they choose, they can be on a level playing field on both internet connected radios, thanks to Pure, and that they can claim their place on UK Radio Player (which, for the record, I think will transform radio listening). Not only that, but technological advances mean that they no longer need either expensive outside broadcast kits, or hyper-intelligent techies to find a way round the problem, but they can just download apps like Audioboo to their mobile phones and give major players a run for their money.

If they truly realise all the opportunities that are open to them right now, student stations have an excellent future open to them. It is my whole-hearted hope that they stop for a moment, think about it, and then grab every single opportunity that is available.

Of course, if they need a hand with Audioboo, I’m here and happy to help.

Listen to my chat with UK Radio Player’s Michael Hill.

Having packed my bags for a ten-day stay in the States, I ended up on a four and a half month epic Space Nomad adventure (more details at spacekate.com). I’m finally home and embarking on another adventure.

There’s no rest for the wicked (nor the jetlagged), so I’m pleased to announce that I’m currently half way through my first day at Audioboo HQ, where I’ve accepted an exciting role, the exact title of which is yet to be decided. Basically I’ll be looking after the community, dashing about the place creating lots of interesting content and generally keeping the boys of the office in check.

Unlike most people, who are frightened of giving up stability to follow their dreams, I’m somewhat the other way round. Suffice to say that I wouldn’t take a job that I thought would be dull, and I haven’t. I’ve been using Audioboo for almost as long as it has existed and I think it’s a great tool (and great fun). In case you’re not familiar with it, Audioboo is like a cross between YouTube and Twitter, but for audio. It’s a free smartphone app that allows you to record sound on the go, tag it, add pictures, tweet it and generally share it with the world. There is also the option to upload sound from your computer, which is nice.

I’ve been using Audioboo to chronicle my mad adventures around the US, to grab interviews with amazing people (like Charlie Duke, the 10th man to walk on the moon) and do occasional news reports while on the go. Others use it to share thoughts, ideas, advice, music, traffic and travel or on the ground reports during revolutions. Audio is an extremely powerful medium and when used well can transport you to where the action is, creating images that surpass those of cameras (try this audio of the of shuttle launch I was at). I’m excited to hear about the latest developments here at Audioboo and pleased to be a part of the team going forward. There are interesting things on the horizon that I look forward to sharing with you.

If you’ve not had a play with the app I encourage you to have a go and let me know how you get on. I’ll be listening out for some of the best bits to feature and looking after the Audioboo Twitter stream too. Do let me know if you hear something or just drop me a line to say hello (the office is pretty quiet!).

They are not words that I expected to utter, but I think that London could learn something from America. Well, to be more precise, from Portland, Oregon.

While I’ve been here I’ve been impressed by a number of things, simple things that I think that London could also benefit from.

What London could learn from Portland:

1) Portland has an incredibly positive attitude to recycling. Special recycling bins proudly proclaim “Portland Recycles”, garbage trucks have positive messages about the number of homes that will be powered by burning of the rubbish they are carrying, and most coffee-shops and cafés separate all their waste to minimise the amount of stuff that gets thrown away. In London people to find recycling more of a chore than a way of life, if our bins said “London recycles” perhaps we’d start to become proud of it too.

2) Better attitude towards cyclists. Portland has 100 miles worth of dedicated cycle-lanes within the city and have numerous bike corals. These replace parking space for two cars with parking for 40 cyclists and complement the smaller bike racks around town. I know London now has ‘Boris Bikes’ but there is still a long way to go…

3) Water run-off management. In the UK we see a rise in the number of people concreting over their front gardens to create driveways, thus reducing the area available for storm-water drainage. In Portland the council has taken to using permeable paving techniques which allow water to drain away through the paving blocks. There are also bioswales dotted around the place. These are vegetated ditches which not only slow the flow of water into the sewers, but also help filter it naturally.

4) Transit Tracker. Every bus-stop and train stop has a unique ID number which you can use to call, text or check online to see exactly when the bus/train you want is due to arrive. It doesn’t just work on printed timetables, this is real-time data, immediately updated to show delays. Portland’s transport operator, Trimet,releases all the data in an open format avaialable through an API, which has enabled an entire ecosystem of transit apps to be build around it (only the phoneline is actually run by Trimet). They were the first to do it in the US, and thus their data format has formed the blueprint for many other cities to follow suit.

5) Educational billboards. I especially liked the use of billboard space to hammer home the message that if you catch a cold then antibiotics won’t help you. Patients demanding antibiotic treatments from their doctors for viral ailments is a real problem. I was impressed to see the council spending money trying to reduce this problem.

6) Council Art Exhibition. “All the art that fits” was a small exhibition of artwork that had been created by members of Portland council. Any member of staff could submit a piece to be displayed and they crammed in as many as would fit in the exhibition space. The blurb about the exhibition mentioned how they want to encourage their employees to be creative even if they are stuck in offices all day. I just thought that it was a nice way of personalising the workers that run the city’s amenities.

7) Powell’s Book shop. Wow. Every city should have an independent book store like this. Covering an entire block, the maze of bookshelves in Powell’s could keep you occupied for days if not weeks. Not only do they sell new books, but also second hand books alongside them. You can take your pick as to which you’d like to buy. Receiving 4000-6000 books per day, you’re sure to find something to your taste, and a few gems along the way. I picked up two vintage NASA books of photographs from the Gemini programme for less than $15. They were in the “Space Exploration” section of their technical book store which is across the street from their main shop and includes all sorts of weird and wonderfully specific sections.

8) Scrap. We need to have Scrap in London. I’ve already blogged about it being a wonderful Aladdin’s cave for crafty folk, but it’s worth stating that again. It’s a not-for-profit organisation that finds a home for unwanted things from local businesses and Portland natives. They run classes for schools and provide a fantastic little work-shop space if you can’t wait to get home with your latest treasure. Last time I visited someone came in and donated a sackful of colourful zip components, there were concrete gnome moulds, kites, floor samples, violin chin-rests and all kinds of paper, pencils, materials for inventive minds to enjoy. The staff are friendly and always on-hand to suggest interesting re-uses and fun craft projects for you to try. I love it. I seem to recall something called “Scrap-Project” that my mother used to visit when she was a teacher, but that was not open to the public. Somebody please create Scrap for London. It is a wonderfully positive place.

9) The ReBuilding Centre. This is like Scrap, but for building supplies. Want a door, a sink, or some glass lampshades? They’ve got the lot! I guess our equivalent would be salvage yards, but these don’t seem to user-friendly to me. The recycling centre in Portland has a lovely entrance-way and encourages donation of old furniture to be recycled by someone else.

10) Free trains in the centre of town. Never going to happen in London, but it’s a nice idea. To be fair, their trains seem more like trams and it’s only a small area that they are free, but still.

11) Cheerful bus drivers. Everyone here seems more cheerful. I understand why there is protective glass/plastic in front of our bus drivers, but they could still make eye-contact and smile from behind if they wanted to. Equally, I know Londoner’s are a rushed an busy bunch and our buses and generally more crowded, but there’s something nice about everyone saying “thank you” as they get off the bus, and the drivers wishing you a nice evening.

12) Bars have to serve food. There is a law in Portland that all bars have to serve food while they are serving alcohol. No more realising you’re getting hungry (and thus tipsy) at 9pm and finding out they stopped serving food at 7.30pm.

13) More neon. Some of the neon signs around Portland are fabulous, tastefully done, classic. London might look cool with a few of these.

Of course there are some things that my beloved London could teach Portland too….

Portland can learn from London:

1) Oyster cards – seriously, Portland, get with the programme. It’s all about swishing your Oyster card as you get on the bus, instead of faffing about sorting out exactly the right money and slowly posting your dollar bills into the machine. Especially when it’s $2.05 for a single journey. Fishing around for that elusive nickel is immensely frustrating.

2) Buses should run later. There I was thinking that London was lame because the tube stops just after midnight, but in Portland you can get stranded if you don’t catch the bus by 10.30pm (7.30pm on a Sunday)! Madness. For the trendy city you appear to want to be, you really need to sort that out!

3) Night-life. Friday night and a restaurant in downtown closes at 6.45pm? Wow. I know they called you the breakfast city, but some of us are night owls. Londoner’s may not be able to eat in pubs past 8pm, but we can dine like kings until late into the night.

4) How to brew beer. Beer doesn’t need to be eye-wateringly hop-py! You know they only added hops to beer to keep it fresh when they were sailing it to India right? It’s not really meant to be there. Portland, proud of its enormous number of breweries is a great place for beer, but not if (like me) you’re not keen on the hops. Also, if your beer is flat, especially if you know it is flat, then don’t serve it to me. No-one people over here don’t drink too much in the way of English ale, every time I try to order it is undrinkable.

5) Ordering at the bar. Table-service is nice every now and then, but sometimes I just want to stand at the bar, choose my tipple, order and pay for it and walk it back to my table myself. It’s not complicated. Please Portland, let me do that more often.

6) Art galleries and museums should be free. Cost should never be an obstacle to gaining new knowledge. London has some splendid museums that won’t cost you a penny. Long may it stay that way (I’m too old to break out my Blue Peter badge you see).

7) Less neon. Listen-up Portland: A little neon goes a long way. Using a neon sign on a police station is perhaps taking it too far.