Being in London since Queen Elizabeth died has felt like a fever dream

Being in London this week has felt like a surreal fever dream.

The coffin of Queen Elizabeth II, draped in the Royal Standard with the Imperial State Crown placed on top, is carried on a horse-drawn gun carriage of the King's Troop Royal Horse Artillery, during the ceremonial procession from Buckingham Palace to Westminster Hall, London.

People are rushing here in the full knowledge they will face 30 hours queues to see the Queen, Heathrow is reducing flights during the minute's silence, and so many marmalade sandwiches have been placed at Buckingham Palace people are being asked to give them to those in need instead.

The passing of Queen Elizabeth II has turned the capital into the most watched City in the world, with everyone talking about the proceedings here.I don’t feel pride nor shock at the events unfolding, it’s just quite weird to witness the scale of it all.

Workers are being told to avoid going into central London, and the offices of journalists in Westminster are out of use for a few days due to security reasons.

Getting the tube, every sign is replaced with a flickering tribute to the late monarch, and has been since the news broke.

Seeing the face of someone who died recently on every sign is deeply odd.

Then there are the queues to see the Queen, with a ticketing system in place, people camping and even a live tracker online to see how long it is.

I know people love the Queen, I know that most of the country are monarchists, but the scale of these events after the death of a 96-year-old has surprised me.As have the sheer volume of people here to mark the event.

The world’s media descended on London as did well wishers, with many flocking to Buckingham Palace to lay flowers and tributes.

People I know are lining the streets to see her casket go past, excited not necessarily out of love for her, but knowing they are witnessing history.

Being in London at this moment is something I will never forget.