Today, I managed to rouse myself (after sleeping for nearly eleven hours) and catch a train to Windsor Castle. The castle is apparently England’s second-busiest attraction (after the Tower of London), and at first I was concerned that it wouldn’t be worth the effort -- the line to enter was ~20mins, and shortly behind me was a family with a toddler who was screaming the entire time we were in line. However, after purchasing a ticket and passing through the metal detectors (where the woman operating the x-ray machine was sure I had a knife in my purse), I quickly determined that the castle surpassed its own hype.
The castle has been the residence of England’s royal family for 900 years, making it the oldest continuously-inhabited royal palace in the world. The exterior is quite impressive and ‘castle-like’; in fact, I was amused to hear during one of the audiotour segments that George IV (who was the Prince Regent during the madness of George III, and the ostentatious man whom the Regency period is named after) added ten meters to the top of the Round Tower during his reign to make it even more impressive. If that’s the case, I can’t wait to go to Brighton, where he built a pavilion that was so over-the-top that his niece, Queen Victoria, gave it away during her reign.
I’m a sucker for audiotours and for reading every available placard, so I spent a lot of time at Windsor. In particular, the State Apartments were incredible, and I felt compelled to listen to the audiotours for every single room. The State Apartments were packed with priceless paintings and furnishings, all designed to further the grandeur of the royal family and the British state. One of the sets of china (created for William IV and used at the coronation dinner for Queen Victoria) cost nearly 300,000 pounds in the 1830s, so you can imagine how elaborate it is given that it would cost millions of dollars today (if you could find anyone capable of reproducing it, which you probably couldn’t).
One of the bizarre things about all of this was how strange it was to imagine being, say, Queen Elizabeth II, and having mementos from your own life on display, to the public, in areas of your own home while you are still alive. One room contained dolls and dresses that had been given to Elizabeth and her sister on a state visit to France when they were still little girls. Another room contained various wedding pictures and mementos celebrating the sixtieth anniversary of Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip. And another room contained her official state portrait. Granted, she’s probably used to all of this by now, but regardless of how glamorous the life of a royal is, they give up a lot of freedom for it -- and they can no longer chop off heads or lay siege to other kingdoms, so it doesn’t seem like the benefits are quite as awesome as they used to be.
I’m not sure whether I was more impressed by the State Apartments (splendid receiving rooms, dining rooms, bedrooms, and staircases) or by St. George’s Chapel, the home chapel of the Knights of the Order of the Garter. The name ‘chapel’ doesn’t do it justice; it rivals some of the best Gothic cathedrals I’ve been in, although I suppose it’s not technically a cathedral because it doesn’t have a bishop. The arches, columns and buttresses are beautifully carved, interspersed with some gorgeous stained glass, various stone effigies of people buried within, and the graves of some of England’s kings and queens. While most of kings and queens of England are buried at Westminster, some are buried at Windsor -- including Henry VIII and his third wife, Jane Seymour (note: not the woman who was in ‘Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman’), as well as Elizabeth II’s parents, George VI and the Queen Mother.
I hung around the town of Windsor and had tea and scones until the 5:15 sung Eucharist service at the chapel, which was open to the public. It was awesome in the truest sense of the word. I sat in one of the choir stalls belonging to a Knight of the Order of the Garter -- each knight’s stall is crowned by a flag bearing his/her personal coat of arms, a headdress, a half-drawn sword (symbolizing readiness to defend the Queen), and a brass plaque with the knight’s name and date of installment into the Order of the Garter. When a knight dies, his or her plaque is placed within the choir stall that s/he had occupied; among others, the choir stall I sat in had been occupied by one of the Dukes of Argyll in the 1800s.
The service included some gorgeous singing by a choir made up of a mix of men and boys, including one boy who was so small that, when he knelt, you couldn’t see his head over the top of the railing. And I don’t think I can describe the feeling of kneeling in the same chapel where Henry VIII, the man who broke away from the Catholic Church and started this whole Church of England business, was buried, and listening to this glorious music that more than made up for all the years of awful congregational singing I’ve sat through in various Methodist Christmas services. You’ll just have to imagine it for yourself.
When I left the chapel, I took one last look at the Round Tower and saw that the flag had switched from the Union Jack to the royal standard -- which meant that the queen had arrived at some point during the afternoon. Feeling properly awash in history, I made it back to London, where I had dinner at Wagamama. While I ignore the exchange rate when it comes to things like entrance fees and train tickets (since the whole point of being here is to see things, I’m not going to skimp on tickets), it does tend to strike home when it comes to meals -- Wagamama is like a noodle-house equivalent of Baja Fresh (or, like a step between fast food and restaurant food, for those of you who don’t know Baja Fresh either), and my spicy noodles, Diet Coke, and water came out to ~$26. Considering that I spent $40 on food today and only got spicy noodles, a Diet Coke, a latte, a couple of waters, tea and a scone, this is quite tragic. But, I shall persevere, and the fact that I can make tea and keep milk and cereal in my room is v. helpful.
Pictures are below -- and you’ll have to put up with these long posts while I’m traveling, because I’m saving this for my own memories. Now it’s time for bed so that I can go off and have another adventure tomorrow!
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