People are queuing to get into Westminster Hall

THE longest I have ever waited in a queue was three hours in a phone shop while the assistants worked out whether I could have the tariff that was offered to me when I first walked in – presumably recording my pained sighs and gurns on CCTV for training purposes and Friday night playback kicks.

So I salute the people who have the time and willpower to stick out the line leading to Westminster Hall and the Queen lying in state.

It is all such a spectacle that it seems almost as many people are taking detours through central London just to see the queue ­– no doubt also viewable from space – itself.

And then there are the hordes of writey-writey journalists compiling more or less the same “colour” piece about how confusing it may be to some that such people willing to spend eight or nine hours and more in a queue actually do exist. All of these pieces end with the same aha! twist, that to be surprised at such affection is to be condescending, and this great fortitude for queuing is actually a quintessential slice of Britain.

Here is our nation in a bittersweet capsule we will be told many times, a country which understands itself to be the only one with traditions, customs and quirks, and a population that will damn well bring more and more poignant Paddington toys to the shrine regardless of how many times they have been urged not to.

But being amazed at the scale of the queue and what people are willing to do to pay their respects, often for a woman they had never met, doesn’t make you a snob.

In our times of instant gratification and deliveries at our fingertips, it’ s just fascinating to think people are still willing to wait eight hours for anything.