Lukasz Kulaga's team had to deep-clean the wedding route and give it a final polish. Then came the big clean-up. Jill Insley helps wield the broom
In pictures: the royal wedding clean-up
There are 154 horses in the Captain's and Sovereign's Escorts in the royal wedding parade, and I swear every single one of them has pooed on the way to Westminster Abbey.
I can say this with some assurance as I am helping to clean the roads with Lukasz Kulaga, a foreman with Veolia Environmental Services, leading a 15-strong team of cleaners following in hot pursuit of the procession. Most of the wedding route is within the City of Westminster, for which Veolia holds the contract for cleaning.
By the day of the wedding, preparations on the streets have already been going on for several weeks, starting with a "deep cleansing" of the route. This has involved sweepers pulling out every scrap of paper, tin and cardboard they could find and running the Johnston C40 – a small mechanical sweeper – along the sides of the roads and pavements, followed by a bigger Johnston 600. Some of the bins have been removed and the roads have been given a final polish with a flushing machine, a lorry with several high-pressure jets squirting water from the front.
The cleaners have also had a practice run to make sure they know who is going where and when. Even so, their working day, which starts at 2am on the day of the wedding, begins with another staff briefing, "just to make sure every one knows what they are doing," says Kulaga. They then do another sweep through, put sand down on the metal manhole covers to prevent the horses' hooves from slipping, and hand out bin bags to members of the public already waiting along the route.
I meet the team on the corner of Victoria Street and Artillery Row. There are cleaners with barrows, dust lorries, mechanical sweepers and flushers all lined up. The cleaners are waiting with an air of eager anticipation, cracking jokes and asking Kulaga questions: although special events such as this result in very long days, the atmosphere is tingling and everyone is happy.
There is the noise of clopping hooves approaching from around the corner and the carriages come in sight along Buckingham Gate. Although this is not part of the official route, Victoria Street leads directly to Westminster Abbey, where all the horse-drawn vehicles and escorts will stop to pick up the royal party. While the public go mad, snapping photos and taking videos, the cleaners look on resignedly as the horses do what comes naturally in stressful circumstances.
As soon as the procession has passed through the barriers to the second half of Victoria Street, the cleaners spring into action. Within seconds, the first section of the street has been cleared of muck and sand and everyone moves up to the barriers, waiting for the police to let them through to work on the next section.
The men are in for a long wait. Bags of crisps come out, passers-by ask directions, the horses, which are parked about 50m ahead of us, continue producing fertiliser. I have a conversation with a woman who has just come up to London for the day from Anglesey, and whose daughter lives next door to the royal couple. Sadly, she turns into a clam when I ask if Kate and William are good neighbours.
Suddenly a cheer goes up from the crowd along the road, the bells start ringing and the horses move forward. "We still have to wait," says Kulaga. "Guests are coming back this way in cars and coaches, and we can't have our men on the road – it's not safe." Health and safety forms a big part of the training Veolia employees go through, and staff are given regular reminders and updates if problems occur within the industry.
The day before, I had been put through the hour-long induction usually given to agency staff by contract trainer Ian Riddell. Although I have mucked out stables on and off for 35 years, Riddell pointed out that I tend to bend forward to push the broom, putting pressure on my lumbar region.
"There are lots of accidents in this industry, more than any other except perhaps farming," he says. "Stand up straight, hold the broom at the top with your hands about 18in apart and push. Try not to let the broom bounce."
I try out his method and on the laminated floor of Veolia's office, it works perfectly. On the road, however, particularly a sticky bit outside the Houses of Parliament, it's hard not to lean into the broom and I am told at least five times by the cleaners around me to stand up or else my back will hurt the next day.
Kulaga moved to the UK in 2004 from Poland, where he had been working as a cashier in a hypermarket and then in the marketing department of a debt collecting firm. "The amount I was earning there was barely enough for living, and I had to support my wife and son. I miss my extended family and would like to go back there." But the need to save more money keeps him in the UK, at least for the forseeable future.
He found a job with an agency within four days of arriving and spent a few weeks working as a cleaner in south-east London, before switching to Veolia and working in Westminster. The company, which prefers to employ people on a staff rather than contract basis if possible, offered him a full-time job, and within nine months he had been promoted to foreman.
Since joining Veolia, Kulaga has attained an HGV licence so he can drive the bigger sweepers and flushers, and has completed an NVQ in waste management. All Veolia's operatives have the opportunity to take such qualifications: the company runs its own dedicated training and development centre, Campus Veolia at Croydon, that offers 200 courses ranging from vocational ones right up to MBAs.
He has worked cleaning up for numerous premieres in Leicester Square (Denzel Washington once thanked him for the fantastic job he was doing), and several openings of parliament and lord mayor's shows, but his favourite occasion is Remembrance Sunday. "It's reflective and people are there to celebrate and remember," he says.
Finally the barriers go up and Kulaga signals to the cleaners to move forward. He runs to a mechanical sweeper, starts up and follows in their wake. I climb into the cab of one of the dust lorries and we roll forward, parking just in front of the entrance to Westminster Abbey, and underneath the specially built press area. While the guests pour out of the Abbey, the crowds stay glued behind the barriers and there is little the cleaners can do. But eventually they start to move off down Whitehall in the direction of Buckingham Palace and Kulaga asks the men to start work again.
I hope this is more of a reflection on those camping rather than the journalists above, but the dirtiest section by far is the pavement immediately below the press box. People have left popup tents, gas canisters, bottles and cans, and thousands of mini union jacks. Corporate litter offenders include Virgin Media for handing out cardboard periscopes so those at the back of the crowds could see what was going on: these all ended up on the pavement. Burger King and its cardboard crowns are just as bad.
The crowds traipse in cavalier fashion through carefully constructed piles of rubbish and sand. I brush into a few legs that dare to walk in front of me, but the men around me are tolerant, not batting an eyelid at the inconsiderate behaviour of those who have dumped the litter in the first place. They virtually run along the road, working efficiently as mini teams, with a couple of sweepers pushing litter towards every person with a shovel.
It's hard work: you soon work up a sweat, and yes, my back started aching. Not surprisingly, Riddell says that virtually all the cleaners employed by Veolia are men. "We have had a couple of women and we are happy to employ them, but virtually all who come from the agencies are men," he says.
In all, the team shifted 140 tonnes of wedding-day rubbish from the streets of Westminster, dropped by the public. Four mornings later it is dust bin day in my road. As I leave my house, the road sweepers are clearing up. I smile and say hello: I will never again ignore those who are working so hard to keep my environment clean.
Curriculum vitae
Pay According to DirectGov, street cleaners can expect to earn between £12,000 and £16,000 a year.
Hours Normally eight hours, with 15 minutes in the morning for a tea break and half an hour for lunch, but shifts are staggered throughout the day. Longer hours for special occasions such as the lord mayor's show or the Tour de France.
Work-life balance The cleaners can choose which shifts to work – if they want to do just Monday to Friday, that can be worked into the schedule. Likewise, if they want to do weekends and overtime, that can also be incorporated.
Best thing "This is the best thing about the job – events like this. It's hard work and there's a lot of preparation, but at the end of the day it is noticed and you are praised by the clients."
Worst thing "Leaves. You sweep them up and then look behind you and literally wonder if you've actually done that street. Cigarettes are bad too since the ban on smoking in offices and pubs."
Overtime
Lukasz doesn't get much spare time thanks to his two young children, Dominic and Patricia, but in the odd free hour he is learning how to use his digital SLR camera properly. Lukasz loves Polish food and his favourite dishes are bigos, a cabbage and meat stew traditionally served on the second day of Christmas, and pierogi, boiled dumplings with savoury fillings. Lukasz claims that even after a hard day sweeping the streets, he pulls his weight with the cleaning at home: we think we need to hear from his wife on this.
