Margaret Thatcher funeral: Yahoo! meets the mourners who quietly gathered at dawn to pay their respects to the 'Iron Lady'

The streets around the Houses of Parliament are normally a constant, chaotic throng of tourists and commuters from dawn until dusk, writes Yahoo's Chris Parsons.

But this Wednesday was clearly different. It was the day of the funeral of Baroness Thatcher and from early on the atmosphere was altogether more sombre and subdued.

What I immediately noticed at the start of the funeral procession route was the formidable security presence.

Much had been made about Scotland Yard's 'True Blue' operation, and with 4,000 officers lining the streets it was clear they weren't taking any chances.

Uniformed officers lined the streets every few yards - from the Winston Churchill statue on Parliament Square right up Whitehall to Trafalgar Square and beyond.

Others patrolled the road on motorbike and horseback, with more on the pavements on foot.

The streets near Whitehall were eerily empty, with supporters standing resolutely in their chosen spots by the steel railings.

Joseph Afrane, dressed in a Union Jack jacket, matching hat and accompanying flags, arrived in central London at 5.20am to make sure he had a prime view of the route.

'I just wanted to make sure I was here to pay my respects on an historic occasion', he told me.

Others - perhaps typical of seasoned London commuters - looked completely unfazed by the metres of fencing and sense of occasion, as they marched towards their workplaces as usual.

Along Whitehall, the quiet sense of anticipation was interrupted only by the occasional coach or the clang of steel as builders erected a temporary barrier along the route.

Up in Trafalgar Square, the usual stream of people marching past Nelson's Column was halted by the maze of fencing.

It wasn't just mourners and committed Thatcher supporters who wanted a closer look.

'We're supposed to be at work, but thought we'd quickly pop down,' a couple of builders told me as they leaned on a barrier looking towards Westminster.

Related: George Osborne in tears during Margaret Thatcher funeral

A couple of hours before the procession started, media crews and police almost outnumbered members of the public.

But as the procession start neared, the streets soon filled. Young and old began to pack in tight against the railings as Baroness Thatcher's coffin was slowly paraded through the streets on a gun carriage.



In Trafalgar Square - the scene of Poll Tax riots which signalled the beginning of the end of Thatcher's leadership - I saw little protest and few dissenting voices.

Many told me they respected others' right to protest in a democratic society but were vehement that a funeral was neither the place nor the time to do it.

A light April drizzle fell just before the start of the procession, and polite applause broke out as Lady Thatcher's flower-and-flag draped coffin was driven past the entrance to Downing Street and up Whitehall towards Trafalgar Square and, finally, St Paul's.

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Some watching the procession working its way up Whitehall, like 19-year-old Edinburgh University students Jake Pearson, Geetika Raman and Hayley Keon were not even born on May 4, 1979 when the Grantham grocer's daughter stood on the steps outside number 10 and quoted St Francis of Assisi.

She famously declared: ‘Where there is discord, may we bring harmony. Where there is error, may we bring truth. Where there is doubt, may we bring faith. And where there is despair, may we bring hope.'

The only clutch of protesters who did make an impression were positioned on Ludgate Circus, near to St Paul's, to demonstrate against the "glorifying" of Lady Thatcher's funeral and cuts to the welfare state.

Related: Thatcher funeral: Pockets of protest

The coffin began its journey to St Paul's at just before 10am, as, draped in the Union flag, it was carried from the Palace of Westminster, where it had been overnight, and put into a hearse.

The hearse was flanked by police outriders as it left Parliament to travel to the chapel of St Clement Danes.

As the gun carriage made its way along the Strand towards Fleet Street, applause and the occasional boos filled the air.

Despite this the overall tone was once of hushed reverence for a formidable politician whose legacy will be debated for decades.