The Worshipful Company of Tax Advisers

Lord Mayor’s Show 2024

As I made my way to Ironmongers’ Hall, it began to hit home just how big an event I was about to become a part of.  As marching bands practised around Smithfield Market, and floats lined Aldersgate Street and London Wall, the sheer size of the Lord Mayor’s Show became all too apparent.  What had I let myself in for?

When the invitation went out for Liverymen wishing to join the Master, Middle Warden, and Renter Warden on the parade, I did not hesitate to put my hand up.  Who knows when such an opportunity might come up again, and I am a firm believer in always saying yes when these things do appear.  And so, there I was at 9am on an overcast Saturday morning, meeting up at Ironmongers’ Hall for a quick bacon sandwich, putting on my Livery robe, and joining the world’s largest, unrehearsed procession to welcome the new Lord Mayor, Alastair King.

Having only previously watched the parade on television, it seemed much bigger, brighter, and louder, in reality.  The 1.5-mile route from Mansion House through Cheapside, passing St Paul’s and onto Fleet Street, was full of people cheering, waving, and clapping.  Shortly after 11am, we joined the procession, along with other modern livery companies. There was something rather surreal about walking around the familiar corner at Bank junction to see BBC TV cameras trained on us, broadcasting around the world to an audience of millions.  And I’m pleased to say we got some of our own airtime, with the Tax Advisers being specifically mentioned in the commentary.

Once at the Royal Courts, and as we waited for the parade to reset for the return leg, we enjoyed lunch and a drink aboard HMS Wellington, kindly arranged by The Worshipful Company of Firefighters. After not too many beverages, we made the returned along Embankment and Victoria Street, eventually to Mansion House.

Taking part in the Lord Mayor’s Show was an amazing experience.  I thoroughly recommend it to anyone who gets the opportunity to join in future … perhaps next year?

Tom Wallace