Episode 17: Good News: You Can Go In; Bad News: No Pictures

Written at 10pm, July 17 2010

The public transportation system may be trying to kill me. I’m just letting you all know now so that when I mysteriously turn up dead, you will know what happened to me. The good news is, I got to go to Windsor Castle today (which, all the signs remind you, has been the royal residence for over 900 years. Seriously, they say this everywhere). However, it took like three hours to get there.

Yes, three hours. And that is without getting lost at all. We started off going from Surbiton to Waterloo. Then once at Waterloo, we were supposed to take a train to Windsor. Which was in the completely opposite direction from Waterloo! And we had to wait a good twenty or thirty minutes for the next train to Windsor. *Rolls eyes* Jeez.

But we finally made it. ‘Twas a trying trip, but we prevailed. Go us. Luckily, we had no real trouble finding the castle. It’s getting in that’s the trick. We decided to try and take the shuttle to the entrance so we didn’t have to walk the whole way, but when we found the stop for the shuttle, we found that we’d have to pay and decided it wasn’t worth it.

That’s right, I chose walking over riding the bus. What now! It’s like London has changed my lazy procrastinatory make-up. What’s happening to me?! Uh…sorry about that. Sometimes my inner monologue takes over before I can wrestle it back into submission. Now where was I?

Oh, right, walking to the castle. So we walked all the way around the castle to the front entrance. And it wasn’t really as far as it looked on the map. But when we got to the entrance, good lord was the line to get in long. Note to self: next time buy tickets in advance. I’m serious about this. It took us like twenty to thirty minutes just to get through the line.

And then we had to pass through security, which thankfully wasn’t super intense. We just put our bags on the scanner and walked through the metal detector. Jessie’s belt did set it off, but they did the little hand detector thing and let us go on. I wonder if you can actually smuggle a weapon in, disguised in the metal of a belt, and not be noticed.

Just a thought. I have many of them that I want to try, but a fear of jail keeps me from doing it. Like seeing how easy it would be for a non-student (but still someone who looks young and innocent) to plant a (fake!) bomb carried in a backpack in the bathrooms of a high school. I don’t know if I want to know the answer to this.

Anyway, once we got through security, we got to go through the gates and into the ground of the castle. And one of the first things I noticed was that all the lanterns (you know, like street lights for houses that turn on when it gets dark) had little crowns on top of them. It was adorable.

We also noticed that all along the walk toward the cathedral and the state apartments, were these tiny window slits in the wall. Which we figured out were for archers, so they can defend the queen against an attack on the castle. Neat.

There were also all these lovely gardens just innocently waiting when you looked over a wall. They were so pretty and well kept. Again, I say we need more gardens and parks that are lovely places to be in America. Then perhaps our youth would feel encouraged to at least go outside with their electronics. Or you know, books. It would make me want to go outside more.

By the way, never ever go shopping at the stores inside a touristy place like Windsor Castle when there are similar souvenir shops outside. At least not if you absolutely need what is in there and it cannot be found at the outside vendors. Because otherwise you will spend way too much on that grenadier dressed bear that can be bought outside for much, much less (no seriously. In the Windsor shops it was 14.95. Outside we found one for 5.99).

At the Middle Ward Shop (which unfairly has gourmet ice cream being sold in front of it. Seriously. Gourmet. Ice Cream) we seem to take a wrong turn. We should have kept going up to the right to make our way to the State Apartments, but instead we turn left and go towards St. George’s Cathedral. Which is not really a bad choice.

I’d like to take a little detour here to mention an interesting phenomenon I’ve noticed. I can go my whole life and never hear about something (not just I hear about it and don’t retain the information; I’ve literally never heard the word or heard about the subject). Then I read it in a book, and suddenly I encounter it often in my daily life.

Case and point, St. George. I recently read Meg Cabot’s new book Insatiable and St. George is part of the story, not as a character, just as some historical reference that comes up a couple of times (and at the end of the book, Meg Cabot tells the story about his history. But, you know, in a fun Meg Cabot-y way). Now, I see him everywhere. His cathedral, his own room at Windsor, a painting in the British Museum. I think I even saw him as part of a clothing theme in Harrods! It’s like he’s stalking me.

Anyway, back to the cathedral. Sadly, we couldn’t take any pictures inside. Which was a complete shame because that. Place. Is. Gorgeous! I could seriously see how sitting in a church like that just gives you a sort of awe. I really have no words to describe how beautiful and elaborate the whole place was. And look up. Always look up in London. Even the ceilings can make you gasp in wonder.

My favorite part of the whole cathedral was the marble stone that said “Beneath this stone lies the remains of Henry VIII and Jane Seymour” plus some other people “and the infant son of Queen Anne”. I’m not quite sure if this is Queen Anne Boelyn or another Queen Anne, but I enjoyed it all the same. And Catherine Parr may have been Henry’s last wife, but Jane was his beloved. Maybe just because she gave him a son and died before he could tire of her, but still. She was the wife he truly loved. And her death may have been the reason he cracked, not the “witchcraft” of Anne Boelyn.

We stopped in the cathedral gift shop (I know, I know what I said. But I’m still drawn to them for some reason) which was pretty small. But I did find something for Mom that I know she’ll love. Yes, I know I thought I was done buying my gifts for Mom and Meg, but I can’t help myself. It was really, really good. And reasonably priced. It would have been irresponsible not to buy it.

And I may have not been able to take pictures inside the cathedral, but by George (hehe, by George. Get it?) I will take a crapload of the outside. And did. Because it’s just too pretty not to be able to share with everyone. I know I keep saying it, but the architecture here rocks.

We finished at the cathedral, figured out we’d gone the wrong way, and headed back towards the apartments. Now, here there were two lines. One led you straight to the apartments themselves. The other led you to the apartments but you went past Queen Mary’s Doll House which was a miniature house that worked just like a real London manor (even the water worked) but on a 1/12 scale. The only problem? This route had a huuuuuuuuuge line to it. A line that wasn’t actually moving. Since neither Jessie nor I was absolutely dying to see this, we decided to bypass it and go straight to the apartments.

One thing to know about the queen? She has a lot of guns. Racks and racks of them. And pistols arranged in artistic-y sunburst circles. And not just guns. Rapiers, swords, knives. It was intense. Plus there was a statue of her in there that seemed to say “Yeah, that’s right. Don’t mess with the Queen buddy. ‘Cause I can take you out.” I believed her.

I loved the child-size suit of armor that Henry VIII had made for Edward. Even if he probably never got to use it because he was too sick as a boy. It was still sweet to see the father’s affection for his son. I bet Elizabeth would have put it on and kicked some butt in the jousting court.

Since there was no photography in the apartments either, I tell you that if you get a chance, you must go there. The only word I have to describe it is opulent. And I’m an English major. I’m a word person, not someone who runs out of them. Plus I know the power of words and opulent is not one I just throw around. But this place really personified it. It was the only thing that came into my mind as I wandered through the rooms, craning my neck back so I could look at the ceilings while trying not to run into people. Luckily, they had ropes set up that showed the crowd how to go through the rooms so you don’t miss anything and to regulate crowd control.

The chandeliers, the masterful paintings on the ceiling, the feeling of grandeur. I really wish I could have a chance to live there, like a real home. Just for one day, have free reign to touch whatever, run from room to room playing and laughing. It would be amazing. One of my favorite things? The crown-like top to the King’s bed. Complete with feathery poof. Loved it.

As we were going to leave, we spotted a guard guy that we wanted a picture taken with (not a grenadier, a different faction). Although we were a little nervous as he had this thing that looked like a gun and had a big ass knife on it (pardon the language, but that’s the only way to describe it). The thing looked like it could gut a shark and then take out a ninja. And I rather like my guts where they are. So I was very careful not to touch him or pose a threat in anyway. And I said thank you afterward even though he’s not allowed to acknowledge it or say anything. His blink seemed appreciative though.

We left via the King Henry VIII Gate. Yes, that exit I talked about earlier was named after Henry VIII. Score! We decided to look for more souvenirs (since we hadn’t really bought anything inside the castle). As we come out of one shop, we seem a motorcycle parade down the street. Seriously, we went from the old world whimsy of Windsor Castle to the modern age adrenaline rush of motorcycles. Oh yes, my day was epic. Thanks for asking.

We went to a couple more shops and I found the awesome hat that Joey has on Friends. Yes, I own my very own, oversized hate with the United Kingdom flag on it. Sadly I do not have a pop-up map I can go into. Nor have I found Fergie. But still, the hat is epic. And I found something for Dad. The day is good.

I almost forgot! In one of the shops, they were selling charcoal drawings of Twilight characters. Seriously. It makes me giggle a little to see how the mania has spread. :D

It took us forever to get home as well. Because there is no direct route from Windsor to Surbiton. And when we were told we could go to Staines and then to Surbiton, we were lied to (but the guy who told us was nice and trying to be helpful, so I don’t fault him). So we had gotten off the train we needed and had to wait twenty minutes for another one to show up. Then we had to go all the way to Clapham Junction (two stops before Waterloo) and then backtrack to Surbiton. And that was the fastest way to get home. Can you see what I mean?

On the way home we stopped at Sainbury’s and I realized that Jessie is a little complain-y at times. And some of the stuff I agreed with, like the dorms not quite being what I’d thought. But I just realized how it must sound to people who live here when we were in Sainbury’s and she brought up the fact that we have to bag our own groceries on the counter. I think the guy in front of us may have thought we were spoiled Americans, which as a people pleaser, made me feel sad.

I walked all the way back to the dorm with Jessie and then put away my groceries. I paused for a few minutes in my room, then I put my laptop in my special backpack and walked back a little past Sainsbury’s to the McDonald’s, which has free wi-fi. Okay, I admit, I may be a little addicted to the internet, but part of this stems from what generation I was born in. Internet has always been around for me.

Also, I can go without internet. I’ve done it quite a few times at Grammie’s before they got a wireless connection. I don’t need the internet to survive when I’m at home and with family. But when you send me to another country and then sever my only connection to home, I get a little desperate. At which point I will walk ten minutes or so to a wi-fi hotspot.

So I was able to get yesterday’s blog post up and go on Facebook for the first time since the meager amount I did on Friday morning. I also got to Skype with Mom and Dad, which I didn’t think I’d be able to do this weekend. Score. Although I worried that I was disturbing the people around me with my conversation, since I kind of had to shout to be heard. Still, it was wonderful to talk with them.

I am a little confused as to why Carlie and Chris still have their internet, as do Jessie and all her flatmates, while I do not. It is sad and a little unfair. But at least it’s only until Monday. I can live that long. Right?

Around 8:15 I left the McDonald’s so I could make it home still in the daylight. I even managed to catch the K3 bus back to Balaclava Road, so at least one thing was going my way. I felt bad for the old guy who missed his bus though. The K3 came a little early (I know, hold your shock and amazement) and he wasn’t prepared for it. So as it blew past, he jumped up and waved his arms, but by then it was too late. Poor guy. Now he had to wait another half hour for the bus.

Now I have the book from Lyanna, so I am going to work on my reader’s diary for Tuesday and then hopefully start the Theatre paper due on Monday. I’d do the paper first, but Lyanna needs her book back and since she was nice enough to loan it to me, I’ll finish that first.

It took me until one in the morning, but I did manage to get through all the poems I needed

Today’s lesson: I’ll say it again, always look up in London. Always. Also, goofy hats with ties to classic 90s TV shows are made of win. Ciao.