Never curtsy in fishing waders
Many, many moons ago, my great aunt was fly-fishing in a patch of river up in the highlands of Scotland. The side of the river she was fishing on was owned by some local laird, and on the other side was Balmoral Castle. It was late August, and the Royals were all in residence - it was fairly normal to see the occasional pair of them out on horseback on the other side of the river, or a fleet of Land Rovers heading off up onto the moors for a shoot. According to the locals, the great rule was that unless they acknowledge your presence first, you ignored them entirely.

Great aunt was in a fairly deep patch of the river, and therefore in waders, happily fishing away. Suddenly on the other side of the river she sees - who else? - the Queen Mum, who was already the Queen Mum by this stage, walking along the river bank.

The Queen Mum gives my great aunt a nod, and so my great aunt, in her excitement at actually being acknowledged by a royal, curtsies.

In her fishing waders. In four and a half feet of water. Cue the waders rapidly filling with water, my great aunt shrieking from the cold, and the Queen Mother absolutely wetting herself with laughter. Family legend.
(hakkety, Thu 3 Aug 2006, 23:33, Reply)