Richard really wasn't thrilled about going to Windsor despite my assurances that it was the kind of English town with old buildings that he would enjoy seeing and that there would be plenty of places to eat. As I wrote in my earlier post, our hotel at Heathrow certainly doesn't inspire the taste buds, nor is there anything to do around it. Especially not in the pouring rain.
So we trudged out in the rain at around 10:00 a.m. and only had to wait about 5 minutes for a bus to the station at Hayes where we caught an Elizabeth Line train to Windsor & Eton. It's the "newest" line on the Underground system although a young man I was chatting to in the carriage said it had taken years to complete. It's very nice though and when we arrived at Windsor & Eton station Richard was charmed. Especially as we were able to find a table at Bill's Restaurant right in the station, which served probably the best breakfast we've had since we've been in London. Despite it being quite crowded, there was no rushing us out and we lingered over my Eggs Benedict/ Richard's Full English and just enjoyed the relaxation and warmth. The kind of thing we had hoped we would find over this past week. To be fair, we have had quite a few nice moments but Richard's illness has overshadowed quite a bit.
Still, we were (well I was) so very thankful it's not been worse and now we were in Windsor, one of my big goals for this week. After breakfast we wandered around the town, mooched in the bookshop. I found a really pretty blue blouse in Whistles that was 50% off and Richard bought me a replacement Black Watch wool scarf for the one that disappeared in Kensington somewhere. Then it was time to line up for our appointed time to enter the Castle.
The line was very long and I was so glad that we at least had a ticket for an appointed time. People were arriving at the queue, thinking that they could just join it but, no, even the half hour appointment time ahead of us (1:00 pm) were still lined up at 1:30. Disappointed faces but in general people were very orderly--Brits and those who join queues in England know that nothing is as sacred as a British queue.
It took us about a half hour to finally enter the area where we were subjected to an intense airport style screening. There have been some problems this year in London with eco activists gluing themselves to pieces of art at the British Museum (to roadways as well) so the security were taking no chances. Everything was very polite but very firm. And there was to be no photography inside the Castle nor inside St. George's Chapel. Not even with a cellphone. This was different from when I visited Versailles a few years ago where cellphone cameras were allowed. Still, it helped everything proceed in a very orderly fashion although I dearly would have liked a photo of the Christmas trees and decorations inside the Castle. Yes of course photographs are available online but somehow we always want our "own" photos.
I did take a few photos of the exterior of the Castle--which was permitted--as we proceeded from the entry to the State Apartments, to the gift shops, to St. Georges.
The rain had stopped before we lined up for the Castle and the day was actually quite lovely. By the time we went through everything, however, evening was coming in as the photos of the lighted windows at St. Georges and the exit gate into the town show.
And the exhibit at Windsor? What was it like? Very opulent. Lots and lots of gilt and red and china, paintings of long-forgotten politicians and kings. Too much to absorb. Similar to Versailles but Versailles glitters more. Windsor is rich in color. Kind of like comparing a very good white wine to a rich red. There was one room, I think it was the monarch's sitting room, that had a beautiful window view that looked out onto the private garden where there are statues and topiary. Richard would have loved to visit that garden but it's private, the docent in the room said that it's never been public.
I'm not actually sure of that because I vaguely remember the last time (first time too) I visited Windsor almost 50 years ago I was able to walk out onto some kind of plaza where we could see the garden below us and take photos (Kodachrome, long gone.) And one of the guides told us that the garden is actually haunted by some kind of sprite. Soldiers back then who were patrolling swore up and down that there was an extra "statue" that was only there around midnight. But that's in my hazy memory and I can't find any story online that matches this.
Anyway, Richard is not into gilt and he spent a lot of the procession through the Castle--it's not a tour unless you rent the audio headset which we didn't do as the line was too long--muttering about people starving in the world. He's hardly a bleeding heart liberal so I really don't know why the monarchy brings out such grumpiness in him. Must be the US genes.
We both very much enjoyed St. Georges Chapel thought. It was silent and reverent and incredibly beautiful. No photography was allowed in there either; I saw one of the vergers chewing a woman out because he caught her taking a photo of the altar. He stood in front of her and insisted she show him that she was deleting the offending photos. Quite right too. If it's no, then people should respect that. I sat down on a bench in the choir right in front of where the Queen's coffin rested in September, where Meghan had processed up the aisle on her wedding--Princess Eugenie too. I also saw where the Queen and Prince Philip are resting together. I was very moved by the feeling of the absence of the Queen, by memories of watching all these events over the past four years on TV. I think I felt the change in monarchs more so in Windsor than in any other place in London. One of the staff who was monitoring one of the rooms in the Castle was asked about how it felt without her. "Very sad," she replied. "She was always around and about and was always so pleasant to talk to."
I did buy a few photo cards of the chapel and here are the reproductions:
By the time we exited the Castle grounds it was dark. Windsor's Christmas lights really popped in the dark:
Thus ended our last event here in London. We ate at Five Guys in Windsor and took the train and bus back to the hotel. An hour to pack, watch another Christmas special and then try to sleep so that we aren't too tired for the 10-hour flight back.
Would we do it again, travel to London at Christmas? Nope. I don't know if we would travel anywhere at Christmas again unless it were to San Diego by car. Richard said he is sure that he picked up this respiratory virus traveling and then it was made so much worse by the damp cold weather. Beautiful as all of the Christmas decorations were, well, I've seen it again now. From now on, I will be happy watching it on Youtube.
Compared to what so many other people went through, though, we actually traveled quite easily. Plane left on time, landed on time, traveling around London by Underground is a breeze. Our first hotel in Kensington was good although R didn't care for it. He might like the look of Georgian architecture but actually squeezing around small rooms (and even smaller bathrooms and bathtubs) and dealing with the unknowns of British heating--too hot, too cold and a French door to the garden (so romantic looking!) that eased open in the night, turning the room into an icebox--well, even at 100% health he's not the most tolerant of people. And feeling sick? 'nuff said.
Although now that he has been home for two days, he is rhapsodizing over a mas in Provence for a week.... Yeah, right.
Ah, felt the memories of the various ceremonies as you described your visit. Someday, maybe someday, I'll cross the pond again. It's been nearly 40 years since I became the first in my family to land in Europe since my grandfather who went as a soldier in WWI. But I haven't yet made it to the UK where most of my forebears originated.
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