Windsor

 Ah, Gentle Reader, 

We have come to the end of our first week of activities as a group in London.  The sixsome, which is trickier to say than it is to type, are off to Paris in the morning.  In what seems to be the way they roll, they are going in two separate groups, though they think they are all in the same hotel in Paris. The early group is on the 640 to Paris — Michael remembers it, or not, well, as the last time we went it wasn’t clear he was going to make it. 

Speaking of which: this morning’s trip to Windsor was crazy tight.  Via Trainline (an app), and Google maps, we were on the 822 train out of Paddington.  I was impatient to roll; I was told that if I said 800 I wasn’t allowed to buzz at 758. 😂 No?  

As we got on the escalator, on the wrong side of the turnstile, one said “Dr. Hicks, is there a bathroom close by?”  I said (curtly? Nah…) “No” and she said “I think I might throw up.”  I said “not on me, please”…After a moment came this huge belch and she pronounced she felt better. 🤦🏻 KMN. (Footnote: there are NO toilets inside the turnstiles in the Tube, and not even in the station)

We took the Bakerloo line and arrived at Paddington (tickets on phones) at 817.  There was no time for grabbing “Starbucks.”  Then another one wanted to know if there was a toilet on the train!!!  FFS. 

We changed at Slough (a far, far suburb of London) and had 4 minutes between trains.  There was no notice of where to go and I was about to look on my phone when a German fellow helped saying trains to Windsor left from platform 1.  We made it, sprinkled in seats amongst a horde of tourists. 

There was time to get a gnosh (they chose Caffe Nero, yet none of them took my tip from Tuesday and got a lemon curd muffin 🤷) and we were nicely early for our 10 o’clock queue. 

I’ll tell you so you know, Windsor has as much security as the airport.  They are nicer about it, but they check everything. 

We padded up the path (it’s quite steep) to the “back” side (I use quotes because back in the day, it would have been the important side, as it overlooks the Thames valley there) where we lined in another queue to get inside. 

There is a lot of impressive shit inside.  And you’re not supposed to take pictures 😕. The first big thing is Queen Mary’s doll house.  It is a replica of sorts of Buckingham Palace and is 1:12 scale.  It has running water, electricity and working cars.  The accoutrements were made by companies in Britain to show off their handiwork.  It is impressively stocked, with the state dining table set up, multiple cars pulled halfway out of the basement garage, and all sorts of utensils.  It’s no Barbie playhouse, but what the hey. 

Then up the stairs through the grand entry, with two armored men on horseback, and a lot of guns and swords displayed, into a series of state rooms.  

Memorably, the St. George Room, the great hall where the Knights of the Garter (not the snake) meet, was destroyed in a fire in ‘92.  It was restored by ‘97; we were there not long after and on that day the wife of the president of France was in the china room when we were and they broke a set of priceless china after showing it to her. 

There’s a lot of paintings, a lot of gold, and, this day, a lot of people.  The Waterloo Room (named, obviously, for the ABBA song) has portraits, mostly by Lawrence, of all the major figures on the victorious side (shockingly, there’s no Napoleon there).  It’s a lot of portraits. 

They did some minimal shopping in the shops (be it known, one has been told to bring home a coronation souvenir but it CAN”T have Camilla on it!  Tough task there). Interestingly, the shops were still selling stuff with Elizabeth on them.  I guess they haven’t had time to turn it all over. 

They explored St. George Chapel, which has recently become a thing, with Harry and Meghan’s (and some cousins) weddings and Philip’s funeral, and declared themselves ready to go. 

The trip back was less eventful and we parted ways as they went into McDonald’s for what I heard them say was a “cheap lunch” until Tuesday morning for the majority of them.  Adieu! 

After an afternoon of napping and wrestling with Zoom to find a file, I went to Zizzi’s, which is across the street from last night’s Wagamama’s, for dinner.  I described Zizi to people on the street as Olive Garden but better.  Chain Italian.  I give you some modest food porn, their bread board with sauces (the one on the left is inedible garlic butter) and spaghetti pomodoro.   I think there’s only one orange spot on my white pullover. 😂 It’s why god made Tide sticks. 

And now some additional stuff. 

(In part to see if brother John reads this far 😂)  I try to be helpful when I’m here, as it seems to be a country of strangers (or lost souls), and I’ve been here enough to be knowledgeable.  But I’m confessing here to 3 cockups! 🥲

• In Stratford yesterday we were standing there talking about them going to eat and me going to get the tickets and a man asked me where Shakespeare’s birthplace was.  I thought I knew.  I told him “a block down there, and a right and a little up that parallel road.”  I looked later.  I was right except the parallel road was the opposite way. 😀
• Today in Windsor RR station, as we were walking onto train platform a woman asked me (one wonders why they ask, but I’ll let you figure it out) where the coach was.  It was awhile before I (duh) understood “coach” meant “bus.”  One of the students pointed her toward the high street. Thankfully. (I was still making it a train coach…)
• On the way back from dinner, stopped at a light, three women were studying a phone and talking.  I asked if they were American (I heard one speak) and one said she was and I asked if I could help.  They were wondering about dinner.  I said to go toward OXford Street, which you could see about 3 blocks down Baker Street.  And asked what they wanted and when they didn’t know told them about both Wagamama’s and Zizzis.  As I walked away, I realized they maybe were looking more high end…they were here for work.  Ah, well…

And, finally, if you wonder why not more pictures, well, I left that to the sixsome.  Who seem to take a lot of pictures.  We have a shared album. They have now added some, so here's two of the castle and one silly one. 

I have a big day tomorrow, with full cooked breakfast (a la John), two museums, tea, and then a play (what should be a heart-breaking Irish dark comedy).  And Sunday there’s footie tickets.  Until then…

And we did.