IT seemed as if the entire population of Rema had turned out to witness Queen Elizabeth II’s arrival in the area.

The main road, Collie Smith Drive, was lined with thousands of chattering schoolchildren in blue and khaki uniforms, many waving little Jamaican flags. Every school in the area had been given the morning off and every child and teacher was on the streets.

The route The Queen would travel was thronged with curious spectators — adults and children alike — shielding themselves from the sun with huge multi-coloured umbrellas. Many of the children were screaming with excitement — some, too small to see over the barriers, were bouncing up and down trying to climb on top of them.

Not even the rooftops were empty as dozens of people scaled the dingy apartment blocks to get a better view while others hung from balconies or out of windows.

At the Hugh Sherlock All-Age School, which The Queen was visiting to observe the renovation works of the Kingston Restoration Company, the excitement bordered on hysteria. Hundreds of children — boys in khaki and girls in white shirts and scarlet skirts — leaned precariously from the upper windows.

“Where’s my scooter?” a 10 year-old boy shouted at the waiting pack of journalists, referring to the trailer load of goodies the children hoped The Queen would bring. “Now, we’ve gone through this already,” bellowed the principal. “If she sends any gifts they are not coming now.”

Meanwhile, the lucky 30 children selected to perform a music and dance routine milled about in a classroom, practising their lines.

Finally, a burst of whooping and cheers erupted from the crowd as The Queen’s motorcade, led by eight police outriders in white dress uniform, slowly pulled up to the school.

She emerged from a Volvo stretch-limo wearing a pale green silk dress with tiny cream flowers, the bottom gathered in tiny pleats. Her gloves, handbag, shoes and hat were white — the hat wrapped in pale green chiffon adorned with purple flowers.

At the entrance to the school stood the finance minister, Omar Davies; the minister of education, Burchell Whiteman, and the school’s principal, Ianthe Chambers. After shaking their hands The Queen, her smile as sparkling as her emerald and diamond brooch, accompanied Chambers around the school.

One of the first sights she saw was a giant mural of her face, looking pink, wrinkled and wearing a crown, which had been painted by a local artist the day before. Indeed, the entire school had had a facelift — the half which had been a construction site on Friday had received its first lick of blue and yellow paint — although there were still gaping holes where windows should have been. Huge balloons floated around in the Jamaican national colours of gold, black and green.

The Queen, accompanied by her guards from the Jamaica Regiment in ceremonial scarlet uniform and swords, inspected the children’s music room, training room, and home economics centre.

She progressed to the back of the school where the children from seven basic schools in the area sat in awed silence with their teachers. As The Queen filed past the tiny children, waving and saying hello, a three-year-old girl — with blue and white beads in her hair — leapt up and grabbed her hand. The Queen muttered a few words, but the girl was too shy to reply.

After The Queen had viewed the school’s other facilities she settled down to watch the music and dance routine, sitting between Davies and Governor-General Sir Howard Cooke.

The presentation, in which the children danced and performed a song composed by the principal, passed off without many mistakes. Although the words of the song were largely drowned by the shrieking of the children upstairs. The performance ended with a bouquet being presented to The Queen by a little girl who curtsied almost 35 times.

After The Queen had pulled out in her motorcade, accompanied by the police, I asked a group of the children what their impression had been.

“She was beautiful,” said eight year-old Tanisha. “I’m in love with her!” said her classmate, Tyrone. “She look so young an’ pretty,” said six year-old Monique Reed. “She could be Queen of the world!” said eight year-old Sachelle.

But some were slightly disappointed with their first glimpse of their Sovereign. “She didn’t look at all like I was expecting,” said 13 year-old Jodie. “She wasn’t even wearing a crown.”

“Yes!” chimed in another “How could she lose the crown?”. But the mystery of her colour was now cleared up — they all agreed she was white.

The children were all keen for The Queen to come again: “We want her to come tommorrow!” said 11 year-old Kenardo . “No, not tommorrow, at Christmas!” shouted Kaneisha, clearly thinking of the massive shopping list they’d given me before.

“And what if she doesn’t bring the presents?” I asked. “It doesn’t matter!” they said “as long as she wears the crown.”

The adult residents of Rema were just as enthusiastic about the visit.

“Is a great thing she come to Rema,” said 20 year-old Tyrone. “Cause it open up the door to England for all we Rema youth. So we don’t mind havin’ her as head of state, cause England is the land of opportunity.”

Even local Rastafarians were delighted with the visit. “It was special and nice,” said 30 year-old Trent Bennet “Cause it bring a different perspective on how people see us in Rema, and we need a bit of positivity. The only thing me sad is that she don’t stop an’ sign her autograph.”

An elderly Rasta named “Onie” — because he only has one leg — also raved about The Queen. “I love the Queen,” he said. “She saved me from the street. Is she that give the money to emancipate the slaves.”

“Queen Elizabeth?” I asked, a trifle confused.

“No, Queen Victoria,” he replied with a smile. “But I still looking a money to get me back to my home — so maybe this Queen can give me that.”