A Day in the Life of Big Ben: Behind the Scenes of London’s Most Iconic Clock

In London, few sights are as instantly recognizable as Big Ben. But for most people rushing past on their way to Westminster Tube or grabbing a coffee from Pret by the Houses of Parliament, it’s just a backdrop-a postcard image frozen in time. What they don’t see is the quiet, meticulous rhythm that keeps this 160-year-old clock ticking through fog, rain, and even the occasional protest march. This is what a real day looks like behind the scenes of London’s most famous timepiece.

5:30 AM: The First Check

Before the city wakes, the clock tower’s head keeper arrives. Not by car, but on foot, past the same bollards where tourists now take selfies. The tower, officially called the Elizabeth Tower since 2012, is still universally known as Big Ben-though technically, Big Ben is the 13.5-ton bell inside. The keeper climbs 334 steps, not by elevator (there isn’t one for staff), and checks the temperature and humidity levels in the clock room. The mechanism, built by Edmund Beckett Denison in 1859, runs on gravity-driven weights and needs steady conditions. Too much damp? The brass gears swell. Too dry? The oil thickens. The keeper logs it all in a leather-bound notebook, just like they have since the 1930s.

7:00 AM: The Chime That Starts the Day

At precisely 7:00, the Great Bell rings out. It’s not loud-it’s deep, resonant, and carries for miles across the Thames. Locals in Southwark and Camden hear it as they brew their tea. Commuters on the Jubilee Line pause for a second. In the nearby pub, The Churchill Arms, the landlord pauses wiping the counter. That chime isn’t just a time signal-it’s a ritual. For decades, Londoners have used it to set their watches. Even now, with smartphones everywhere, the sound still cuts through the morning noise. A retired clockmaker from Croydon once told me he still checks his pocket watch against Big Ben every morning. "It’s the only timepiece in London I trust," he said.

9:30 AM: Maintenance and the Mystery of the Pennies

By mid-morning, the clock team is adjusting the pendulum. Not with fancy tools, but with old British pennies. Yes-actual pennies. Stacked on a tray attached to the pendulum rod, each one changes the clock’s speed by about 0.4 seconds per day. It’s a 19th-century hack that still works better than digital calibrations. The keeper removes or adds coins depending on seasonal changes in air pressure and temperature. Right now, they’re adding two pennies because the autumn chill is slowing the mechanism slightly. The team also checks the clock’s four dials, each 23 feet across, cleaned weekly with a soft brush and distilled water. No harsh chemicals-just patience and care. The glass on the dials? Made by the same company that supplied stained glass to Westminster Abbey in the 1800s.

12:00 PM: The Noon Chime and the BBC

At noon, the chime is broadcast live across the UK by the BBC. Millions hear it on Radio 4, in taxis, in offices, in care homes. The signal is so precise that the BBC’s master clock syncs to Big Ben, not the other way around. If the clock ever drifts more than two seconds, the BBC’s engineers are called in. Once, during a heatwave in 2021, the clock lost 1.5 seconds. The keeper added three pennies and corrected it within 48 hours. That’s the thing about Big Ben-it doesn’t just tell time. It holds the city to a standard.

2:00 PM: The Visitors and the Secret View

Tourists line up outside Parliament for guided tours. Only 500 people a year get to climb the tower-mostly UK residents, MPs, and dignitaries. But locals know a trick: if you book a tour of the Houses of Parliament, you can sometimes catch a glimpse of the clock mechanism from the public gallery. It’s not the full view, but you can see the massive gears turning, the red and gold paint peeling slightly in places, the dust from centuries of London smog still clinging to the brass. One local schoolteacher brought her class last year. "They didn’t believe it was real," she said. "They thought it was CGI. Then they heard the bell-and they went silent."

4:00 PM: The Quiet Hours

Afternoon is quiet. The clock doesn’t need constant attention. The keeper walks the perimeter of the tower, checking for damage from weather or pollution. London’s air is cleaner than it was in the 1950s, but acid rain still eats at the stonework. The tower’s exterior is repainted every 10 years-last time, they used a special grey called "Parliament Grey," mixed to match the original 1859 paint. The scaffolding goes up for weeks, and the whole city holds its breath. People post photos on Instagram with #BigBenRenovation. The council even runs a live webcam so residents can watch the work.

7:00 PM: The Evening Chimes and the City Lights

As the sun sets over the Thames, Big Ben chimes again-this time for the quarter hours. The melody, known as the Westminster Quarters, is played on four smaller bells. It’s the same tune used in many British churches and town halls. In Brighton, where I live, the clock tower at the Royal Pavilion plays it too. But here, in London, it carries more weight. It’s the sound of continuity. As the lights come on in Covent Garden and the last Tube train heads toward Uxbridge, the chimes remind everyone: this city has kept time longer than most of its residents have been alive.

10:00 PM: The Final Check

The keeper makes one last walk up the stairs. The weights are lowered, the pendulum swings, and the clock ticks on. No one is around. The only noise is the occasional hum of a passing bus on Victoria Street. The keeper turns off the internal lights, closes the door, and heads home. Somewhere, a child in Peckham is dreaming about knights and castles. A tourist in Camden is scrolling through photos of Big Ben, wondering how it still works. And somewhere else, a Londoner is setting their alarm by the sound of a bell they’ve never seen up close.

Big Ben isn’t just a landmark. It’s a living machine, a cultural anchor, and a quiet guardian of London’s rhythm. It doesn’t need social media to matter. It doesn’t need viral videos. It just ticks. And for over 160 years, that’s been enough.