I WAS 20 when I first experienced a street party.

It wasn’t a street party as such, because the road in question - in South London - was too busy to be closed off to traffic, but the event did involve many residents of the street.

It took place in the garden next door to my student house, and we were all invited. I remember on the morning someone knocking on the door to ask if we had any tablecloths, which - given the dishevelled state of the house - struck us as funny.

Around 50 of us gathered, rather awkwardly at first, along a line of trestle tables under Union Jack bunting, and tucked in to piles of sandwiches, sausage rolls and quiches, delicious cakes and other tasty home-made fares. As students living on greasy kebabs, we’d never had it so good.

It was lovely, sitting chatting with people we lived alongside but had never met. One neighbour had five cats and later took us over to meet them. Another gave us jars of her home-made jam and while there we met other students who became friends.

There must have been about 100 people in that garden, and afterwards we stayed behind to help wash up, not leaving until well after midnight.

The occasion? The wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer. To be honest, neither I nor any of my friends had the slightest interest in, nor affection for, the couple, but it was a warm summer’s day and it was easy to become wrapped up in the party atmosphere.

That event saw thousands of street parties across the country. No doubt there were similar gatherings in 1977 when the Queen celebrated her Silver Jubilee. I can’t remember anything taking place in my home village in North Yorkshire, but I was 16 at the time, spending most of my time being moody in my bedroom, listening to Abba.

While social events of this type are not everyone’s cup of tea, there’s something to be said for street parties.

A study this year by the charity Action for Children revealed that despite many having lived in close proximity to the same people for years, less than half of them knew their neighbour’s name and 23 per cent admitted they call their neighbour ‘mate’ as a result, while a fifth have only said a quick hello and nothing more.

Getting together with neighbours and those who live close by, you not only learn their names, you often discover that you have things or people in common. It’s an occasion for young and old to sit together, for families to meet other families, for people you normally only see rushing to and from work to chat and let their hair down.

In my experience knowing at least some people in your street, makes for a more comfortable, happier community. Street parties, and indeed other community events, certainly help to facilitate this and we should take our hats off to those who organise them.

As a nation we seem to be embracing the idea of street parties and people are gearing up to make the most of the four-day Platinum Jubilee holiday. We missed out on a national day of fun when the 75th anniversary of VE Day fell during the first lockdown, although everyone made the socially distanced best of it. You couldn’t walk along our street without being offered several glasses of wine.

I am sure many communities will be making up lost ground this week. From the sound of things, there will be plenty of street parties over the next four days, although I think we can safely say that there won’t be one in Downing Street. I would imagine even the word is banned in that cul-de-sac.