Forget the seats. For many the real joy of the Proms means queueing to stand in the arena. We sent Jeremy Pound to experience the magic of promming <\/p>

Some ideas are best kept to oneself. Such as the little gem I came up with at this morning\u2019s Proms Issue planning meeting. <\/strong><\/p>\n

\u2018Why don\u2019t we get someone to go along as a Promenader, mix it with the die-hard standers and queuers, and keep a diary of the day?\u2019 I pipe up. \u2018You know, a sort of Beginner\u2019s Guide to Promming.\u2019<\/p>\n

The editor\u2019s reply is instant and gratifyingly enthusiastic: \u2018Great! Though you\u2019ll have to make it a really high-profile Prom if you\u2019re to get the most out of the experience.\u2019<\/p>\n

His worryingly satanic grin tells me that this transition from my generic \u2018someone\u2019 to his all-too-specific \u2018you\u2019 was no accident. He knows full well that, ever since I went to my first Prom as a nipper in the early 1980s, I\u2019ve always enjoyed the comfort of a seat.<\/p>\n

100 most memorable Proms ever<\/a><\/strong><\/li>\n
How do you get tickets to the BBC Proms?<\/a><\/strong><\/li>\n
Why are the BBC Proms called the Proms?<\/a><\/strong><\/li>\n
Is there a dress code at the BBC Proms?<\/a><\/strong><\/li>\n
BBC Proms schedule: Full programme of events and concerts<\/a><\/strong><\/li>\n<\/ul>
<\/p><\/div> <\/section>
I\u2019ve never stood, never queued. \u2018Obviously, we\u2019d want you to get right to the front of the Arena,\u2019 he continues. \u2018So that would mean getting to the Albert Hall really early. Do take a book and a cushion, as I don\u2019t imagine the pavements are too comfortable. And then the weather might be a touch iffy\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n
Glee scarcely contained, the commission, he assures me, is all mine.<\/p>\n
How the day unfolded<\/h2>\n
8.25am<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n
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So, here we go. Cheltenham Spa station on what looks like being, touch wood, a sunny day. To secure my front-row slot in the Arena, I need to get into London as early as possible, but a crack-of-dawn start is also out of the question \u2013 getting into a Prom for a fiver won\u2019t mean much if I\u2019ve had to shell out a month\u2019s mortgage on a peak-time train ticket to get there. So, the 8.31am train it is.<\/p>\n
The day is going be a long one, though with a rather magical musical reward at the end of it: Mahler<\/a><\/strong>\u2019s Third Symphony, performed by the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra under Sir Donald Runnicles.<\/p>\n
10.50am<\/strong><\/p>\n
Remarkably, my train has arrived bang on time. As I make my way across Hyde Park, I find myself breaking into the occasional run. Am I really that excited about the prospect of hanging around doing nothing for hours? Or just absurdly desperate to get as close to the front of the queue as possible?<\/p>\n
Beyond the Albert Memorial in front of me looms the magnificent sight of the Royal Albert Hall<\/a><\/strong>. I do so love it. Not so keen on the increasingly grey sky above it, mind\u2026<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
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11.15am<\/strong><\/p>\n
And here I am. I\u2019m in the queue! Or, rather, one of the queues, plural \u2013 lining up along the wall to the left of the statue is the \u2018Arena Day Queue\u2019 for occasional visitors to the Proms such as me, while across the way, to the right of it, is the season-ticket holders\u2019 \u2018Arena Season Queue\u2019.<\/p>\n
As British queues go, ours is decidedly higgledy-piggledy, consisting basically of a couple of gaggles chatting, a lady reading a book, one chap lying along the wall half-asleep\u2026 and that\u2019s about it. By my estimation, when it comes to making my way through Door 11 and into the arena this evening, only seven or eight people will be ahead of me.<\/p>\n
Surely I\u2019ve done enough to bag a place against the front rail? In the meantime, all I have to do is think of ways of passing the eight hours between now and when Sir Donald raises his Mahlerian baton. And hope that wasn\u2019t a drop of rain I just felt\u2026<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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11.50am<\/strong><\/p>\n
Oh dear. Yes that was a drop of rain. And now the skies have well and truly opened. Our already haphazard queue disintegrates as we all run for shelter within the covered walkway of the Albert Hall and I find myself worrying if this means my hard-earned place will count for nothing.<\/p>\n
Not a bit of it, my fellow queuers assure me \u2013 once you\u2019ve bagged your spot, honour among Prommers means that it will remain yours. They\u2019re a friendly bunch, I must say, and we soon get chatting.<\/p>\n
Nigel, I learn, was second here today, arriving from Brighton at just after 9am \u2013 a civil servant, he\u2019s taken a couple of weeks off work just to attend Proms; Rick, a lawyer \u2013 \u2018or Rod, as some of the older Prommers know me\u2019 \u2013 gives me the lowdown on the works that bring in the most early-doors punters: Dvo\u03c0a\u0301k\u2019s New World Symphony<\/a><\/strong>, Ravel<\/a><\/strong>\u2019s Bolero, Stravinsky\u2019s Rite of Spring<\/a><\/strong> and Holst\u2019s Planets<\/a><\/strong>; and Barbara, aged 80, has memories of Promming that date back to Sir Malcolm Sargent\u2019<\/a><\/strong>s heyday in the 1940s, though says she has slowed down a bit recently \u2013 last year she managed \u2018only\u2019 33 Proms.<\/p>\n
I in turn explain who I am and what my aim is today. \u2018Ah, the Holy Rail!\u2019 I hear someone joke, to amused chuckles. I suspect this pun may have made an appearance one or two times before.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
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12.10pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
Do you ever get the feeling your colleagues might not like you? I\u2019ve come today with a couple of props \u2013 a Union Jack flag and umbrella \u2013 which I\u2019ve been instructed by our art editor to use for photos at appropriate occasions. Such as the current spell of torrential-rain-cum-howling-gale, I guess.<\/p>\n
As I lift flag and brolly sheepishly out of my bag, David, a schoolteacher from Bedford who arrived just before me today, looks at me worriedly: \u2018You do know this is not the Last Night<\/a><\/strong>, don\u2019t you?\u2019 Nodding glumly, I head out into the rain.<\/p>\n
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12.30pm<\/strong>\nKeen to establish my musical credentials, I chat at some length to David, who\u2019s a keen organist. We spend a happy half hour on the finer points of Bach<\/a><\/strong>, diapasons, Widor, reed stops, swells to greats and all. I move the conversation enthusiastically on to one of my pet subjects: the organ works of Herbert Howells! Oh. David suddenly seems keen to get away and have some lunch\u2026<\/p>\n
12.40pm<\/strong>\nThe rain stops. We venture back outside.<\/p>\n
1.10pm<\/strong>\nDavid returns \u2013 leaving the queue for something to eat\/a wee\/to stretch one\u2019s legs is deemed acceptable so long as one doesn\u2019t disappear for hours on end. He\u2019s been shopping and is brandishing a plastic bag, out of which he pulls the sheet music for Howells\u2019s Psalm Preludes for organ. He says he intends to learn them. I am genuinely chuffed.<\/p>\n
1.30pm<\/strong>\nA big moment. Proms stewards walk down the queue, handing out numbered tickets that mark our official position in the line. I\u2019m No. 10! A truly distinguished number, I\u2019d say \u2013 think Pele, Dudley Moore and Bo Derek, Churchill, Attlee and co.<\/p>\n
More to the point, it surely has \u2018Holy Rail\u2019 written all over it. Of course, Nigel (2), Barbara (4), Rick\/Rod (8) and David (9) are better placed still. We\u2019re all happy. Bring on Mahler and Sir Donald.<\/p>\n
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2pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
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Since the numbers excitement, not a great deal has been going on. Starting to get a little bored, if I\u2019m honest.<\/p>\n
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2.30pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
Still nothing. Still bored. Pavement beginning the season ticket holders\u2019 queue across the to feel rather uncomfortable, despite my ad hoc<\/em> cushion of a folded-up Union Jack flag.<\/p>\n
2.50pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
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Bored, bored, bored. And uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
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4pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
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Not so bored, thanks to an engaging chat with Rick\/Rod about what to expect when the doors open at 6-ish. As we enter through Door 11, he explains, the season ticket holders will be coming in through Door 1 on the other side of the Hall.<\/p>\n
Everyone stays strictly in order until you reach the edge of the Arena, at which point you make like a bat out of hell for the holy rail. Running is strictly forbidden, while tactics such as rugby hand-offs, tripping up others, and trampling over old ladies are also frowned upon.<\/p>\n
4.30pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
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Fivers at the ready. The stewards make their second journey along the line, this time to sell tickets for this evening. It\u2019s cash only, I\u2019m pleased to find out. Paying by credit card somehow wouldn\u2019t seem right<\/p>\n
5pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
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We\u2019re getting tantalisingly close now, and our queue has started to lengthen rapidly down the steps and into Prince Consort Road. Ditto the season ticket holders\u2019 queue across the way, which I\u2019ve been keeping an eye on all day, and now decide to go and say \u2018hello\u2019 to.<\/p>\n
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The Prommer<\/a><\/strong>s at the front, I quickly find out, are every bit as obsessed as us \u2018day ticketers\u2019 with getting as near to the stage as possible. Unsurprisingly, many of them have also got to know each other very well indeed over the years. One couple further\u00a0 down the line, I\u2019m reliably told, met at the Proms, fell in love at the Proms and have since got married and started their own brood of little Prommerlets (presumably not at the Proms). How sweet.<\/p>\n
6.15pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
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Here we go then. Those attending the pre-Proms lecture have returned, and we\u2019re being ushered forward towards Door 11 and into the Hall, tickets in hand.<\/p>\n
6.20pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
$\""The\"$ <\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/picture><\/div>\n
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Done it! I\u2019ve made it to the holy rail. I\u2019m standing just in front of where the third desk of the second violins will be. Immediately to my left are Rick\/Rod and David, and to my right are Andrew and Paul, who tell me that they were 18th and 19th in the queue. I\u2019ve no idea what happened to Nos 11 to 17. Lost in transit?<\/p>\n
6.55pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
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The Albert Hall is now as good as full. It\u2019s a fine sight, especially with the Mahler-sized orchestra and vast chorus of singers up on stage. there\u2019s just time for the Proms charity collectors to announce how much they\u2019ve raised, before Sir Don arrives on stage.<\/p>\n
7.40pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
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First movement down, and I\u2019m enjoying myself immensely, even if the view\u2019s not the best this close up. The BBC SSO second violins may well be the best-looking section in the world\u2026 but I wouldn\u2019t mind being able to see some other parts of the orchestra occasionally.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ll take it as read that there are brass and wind players behind them somewhere. That said, the sound is knockout, and the orchestra is having a blinder.<\/p>\n
9pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
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Superb. Huge symphony, huge performance. As orchestra, singers and maestro take their well-deserved bows, I turn round and admire the spectacle of 6,000 people applauding. I see why it must be such a thrill to perform here. I\u2019m on cloud nine myself.<\/p>\n
9.10pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
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As we head out of the Arena, a number of those who I have got to know over the day enthusiastically ask me if I\u2019m going to give up the comfy seat for the holy rail in future? That\u2019s a tough question. I\u2019ll have to have a think about it over a beer.<\/p>\n
10pm<\/strong><\/p>\n
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One final treat. Suitably refreshed, I make my way back into the Albert Hall, and head all the way up the stairs into the perimeter Gallery for the late-evening concert. This time, everywhere is sparsely populated \u2013 row upon row of empty seats and large spaces in the Arena far below me. But that only adds to the magic.<\/p>\n
As the Hall\u2019s big spaces are filled with Bach organ and choral music, I roll out that Union Jack, lie back and wallow in the atmosphere of it all. Glorious. So, I ponder to myself, what is the best way to enjoy a Prom? Sitting, standing or lying down? I can\u2019t say. I\u2019d gladly recommend all three.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div> <\/body><\/html>\n
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How the day unfolded<\/h2>\n8.25am<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n