The Shropshire Star’s royal correspondent Shirley Tart will be among the privileged few journalists inside Westminster Abbey tomorrow and here she speaks of her preparations for the big day

I know just how it will be tomorrow. There will be anticipation, excitement, delight, not doing things correctly or scared of being late.

And that’s only me. Never mind how the bride of the moment might be feeling . . .

As a writer, being one of just a handful of journalists privileged to be invited into Westminster Abbey for what has turned into a global wedding watched by billions, the feelings of pride, being so fortunate and of course, looking forward immensely to reporting from the heart of it all for Shropshire Star readers, are still amazing.

Even more so, since the Abbey seats only 1,900 people compared to St Paul’s, almost double at 3,500. So with demand and interest from across the world, we know how much of a headache this particular allocation must have been.

• See the official royal wedding programme here

I remember thinking when I got the first royal ticket back in 1973 for the marriage of Princess Anne to Captain Mark Phillips, that this truly was an experience to enjoy, and to make the most of.

After all, who knew whether such luck would ever come my way again.

Well, luck did, and I am so very grateful.

The next wedding, widely regarded as the most significant of them all in modern times, was at St Paul’s Cathedral when The Prince of Wales married Lady Diana Spencer.

Apart from the venue, it was a State occasion since the groom was (and still is) direct heir to the throne. Hence prime ministers, presidents, world leaders arrived with all the pomp and circumstance which Great Britain really does best. The bride was 12 years younger than her new husband, shy and visibly nervous.

Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson wed in 1986, this time back at the Abbey in what turned into a jolly summertime occasion.

For Edward and Sophie Rhys-Jones, the venue changed completely and they chose St George’s Chapel at Windsor Castle for their nuptials — so far the most enduring marriage of all the Queen’s children.

While the same royal town was also the setting for the most unusual of them all, the second marriage of Charles to Camilla Parker-Bowles, long time love and finally, his wife.

And I have been there at them all.

Yet tomorrow, there will still be the same sense of occasion, of excitement and of pride in once again making that journey to Westminster Abbey, through waiting throngs who started camping out on Tuesday hoping for just a glimpse of the new bride and groom.

If it’s royal celebrity you want, you’ll not better a handsome prince come to claim his lovely new wife. It will be great.

Yes, my job is to report from the Abbey back to the office as quickly as possible — but this is, after all, a religious service, a holy binding of two people, one to the other.

The promises they make tomorrow are the most important of their lives, and onlookers from princes and premiers to footballers and journalists, are part of their special, private ceremony. So of course we must and should behave accordingly.

The information bidding you to take a seat states the dress code of morning or lounge suits for gentlemen, day dress and hat for ladies — I remember having to dash and buy a hat in Oxford Street on one occasion because I’d been under the weather and hadn’t been able to look for the vital prop in the right colour beforehand.

On the day, you must also remember your passport, press cards and official proof of address, to be presented at several official points.

Tomorrow’s requests also include switching off telephones, Blackberries and any other electronic gadgetry and behave as any guest would. Absolutely right.

Back in those early days, such communication equipment was not a problem — we didn’t have any.

Even at the wedding of Charles and Diana, I had to hand-write stories, pass them to an elderly gentleman (known as a runner) who scurried away through a crypt (I think) and gave the precious sheets of paper to one of the boys from our then Fleet Street office, who dashed back and phoned it across to Shropshire.

I used to think if that if my scribble ever made it, I’d be staggered. But it always did, and I always was.

When mobile phones were first in more general use, we had to pop them in a plastic bag at Abbey or Cathedral door, nowadays of course, they’d have a lorry load of gadgets to deal with and would you ever find yours again?

But even modern methods bring their own problems. My little electronic notebook which goes in a (biggish) handbag, is brilliant for instant writing up of the event. However, you still must rely on the vagaries of the network for that vital link.

And the other thing is what to wear. Given last week’s weather, the floaty number in mind would have been perfect. Given the less settled forecast, it might have to be the slightly heavier jacket and skirt but actually, I like the hat which goes with that better!

Such decisions apart, it will be a memorable, grand and very special occasion to which I once again feel so very fortunate to be a front row spectator.