Would I go to Downing Street? I was asked some time mid-morning. There is a certain reluctance among political hacks to hang around in what always seems to be colder, shady side of the world's most famous street - behind the metal barriers reserved for the media.
But I had no hesitation in saying yes. As well as interviewing some excellent teachers being honoured for their work around the country, there was the prospect of seeing the arrival of the man of the moment, Andy Murray. The first British man to win Wimbledon for 77 years was due there just after the teachers' event finished.
So, after meeting the teachers, we decided to stick around for just a bit longer. By now there was a big media turnout and a real sense of atmosphere. Photographers were on ladders, news channel presenters talking live.
My cameraman colleague decided an extra angle was needed - reminding me he previously shot Margaret Thatcher on what turned out to be her last visit, and President Obama.
But this would be just as big.
There was Judy, Andy's mother.. Then his father. A Bentley drew up and out stepped Simon Fuller, his manager (a brief stop for the cameras from each, shouted questions.)
But still we had to wait for the main man. Word went round that the Prime Minister was still in the Commons.
At last the gates opened. "He's here" said a radio reporter. And yes, that tall, thin man in the sharp blue suit was Andy Murray, striding up Downing Street.
There was applause - I'm not sure who from. He stood briefly on his own in the sunlight, basking in the moment, before the door to Number 10 opened and David Cameron - a big tennis fan - bounded out to shake his hand.
I thought Cameron looked slightly taller, but when I looked at the photos I wasn't sure.
There was a bit of that earnest talking that the PM does with visiting dignitaries, smiles for the cameras, then the door opened once again. And as Andy Murray went in, you could hear the wave of applause from the staff inside.
Even as the door closed, you could still hear it - my abiding memory of a unique occasion.