If summer in London had a pulse, it would thump straight through Hyde Park every July. I’ve become a proper BST superfan over the past five years. No exaggeration, if I don’t spend at least a couple of evenings dancing on damp grass with a lukewarm drink in my hand, summer hasn’t officially started. This year the whole shebang ended on Sunday night with Lewis Capaldi, and oh my days, what a finale.

Saturday had been a bit of a juggle. England were playing in the World Cup (priorities, right?) so half the city had one eye on a screen and the other on the Great Oak Stage. But come Sunday, the Three Lions had done the business, and the air in Hyde Park was thick with that glorious smug sunshine that only follows a big win. Everyone was beaming, strangers were high fiving, and the bar queues suddenly felt like a social occasion rather than an ordeal. It was, quite simply, the happiest patch of London I’ve ever stood in.
I arrived with my mate ridiculously early, because we are Women Who Plan. Blanket down, sunglasses welded to face, snacks that definitely breached the official food policy tucked into my crossbody bag. We flitted between stages, stumbling across new acts like musical magpies. The lineup had a lovely Scottish thread running through it, a nod to Lewis, plus a cracking mix of rock pop sounds from all over. The whole day felt like flicking through a Spotify playlist curated by your coolest friend.
My first proper spine tingle came from Alessi Rose. She bounced onto the Great Oak Stage with all the confidence of someone who’s already got an arena tour booked in her head, part Taylor Swift storytelling, part rock chick strut. The younger fans near us were absolutely losing it, and a few of us mums nodded along thinking, “Yep, she’s going to be massive.” Conan Gray followed, floating out in a shirt that caught the evening breeze like he’d borrowed it from a romantic poet. He chatted between songs with a deliciously dry sense of humour, calling his own material “depressing” in a way that somehow made everyone grin. Proper charming.
Then the man himself. Lewis Capaldi wandered on just after 8.20pm and there was no big spaceship, no costume changes, no dancers dressed as clouds. Just a bloke in a jacket, a phenomenal voice, and a back catalogue that turns grown adults into sob singing puddles. The magic is all in his chaos. One minute he’s belting out a heartbreaker, the next he’s riffing about how much he needs a wee or doing an impression that makes sixty five thousand people howl. It’s like watching your funniest friend headline a festival by accident.
The real lump in the throat moment arrived when a little lad near the front held up a sign saying it was his first ever concert and could he please have a selfie. Lewis spotted it, got him up on stage, and the whole park melted into a giant puddle of broody clucky energy. The kid waved, we all cheered, and there wasn’t a dry eye for miles. No gimmicks, just a genuinely lovely bit of human connection.
Then came the surprise guest. Luke Pritchard from The Kooks bounced on and they launched into Naive, and suddenly Hyde Park turned into the world’s largest indie disco. Every single person within earshot yelled the words. I hugged a stranger. I’m not sorry.
The big singalongs kept coming. Before You Go, Hold Me While You Wait, Bruises – each one louder and more unhinged than the last. And then, as the sky darkened, the opening chords of Someone You Loved rippled through the speakers and the fireworks started popping. I just stood there, covered in goosebumps, screaming the lyrics with about sixtyfive thousand other people, thinking, “This is why we do it. This is why we pay twelve quid for a burger and lose all feeling in our feet.”
Before he shuffled off, Lewis mentioned he’s heading away to write a new album. He promised he’d be back. The roar that followed could probably have been heard in Pimlico. So take your time, Lewis. We’ll wait. But hurry up, yeah? Some of London Mums have school runs to get back to and we need new music to cry in the car to.
BST Hyde Park 2026, you were an absolute riot. And Lewis Capaldi, you gave us the perfect night out: full of belly laughs, a few happy tears, and just enough chaos to remind us we are still properly alive. www.bst-hydepark.com
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Hi, I’m Fran! I live in central London and I’m constantly out and about. I enjoy everything London has to offer: Art, Music, Theatre, Sports, History and whatever else has the power to entertain me. I’m looking forward to sharing my passions with you here!


