UK Day 4 In Which We Visit Windsor Castle, and Harry and Kate Make an Appearance, and We Love Eel Pie Island

The population of the UK is currently about 67 million and I'm fairly certain all of them were in Windsor with us yesterday.  Following the wedding of Prince Harry to Meghan Markle and then the wedding of Princess Eugenie to some very rich banker fellow, Windsor has grown in popularity as a tourist destination. It's always a bit of a shame when somewhere lovely in the UK makes a name for itself in the public realm as it inevitably means that where once were quiet cobble stoned lanes filled with tumbling roses and cats sunning themselves by brightly painted front stoops, now are ghastly tourist shops filled with plastic soldiers, horrible tshirts, and cheap bobble heads of the Queen and, for some reason, Donald Trump. What amazes me even more than the quantity of such shops, is the quantity of people actually purchasing said items. There's no accounting for tastes, I suppose. I did observe one man (from the US) go to great lengths to insist on one particular Queen's Guard bobble head/snow-globe that was located at the far reach of the front window of a tourist shop, knocking over a display of plastic hedgehog bells (that's right, hedgehog bells) and a couple of royal Wedding Commemorative plates along the way. Raj the shopkeeper looked on and quietly cleaned up the mess. I can only imagine what he wanted to say:

Raj: Excuse me, Sir, would you mind not leaving a path of destruction behind you on your quest for the tackiest of tacky gifts for your Trump-supporting mother back home in Wichita?
Gerry from Iowa: Huh? Honey what is he saying I can't understand him. Can you hold this hedgehog-be...of forget it, I'll just knock them all over instead.
Raj: I'm so sorry, my good Sir, but I must ask you to take the utmost of care whilst you...
Gerry (knocking over 5 plates and twelve mugs) There's no room in this country! Honey can you understand like, anything he is saying? Do they even speak English here? Tell him I want that one in the corner (turns to Raj and speaks slowly) I WANT THAT ONE IN THE CORNER, THE BLUE AND RED ONE.
Raj: Yes, yes, my Finest of Gentlemen, I do so understand your desire for that particular item but would you mind not...(Gerry knocks over 8 thimbles and 4 spoons)
Raj: ...not knocking over every single thing in the window you idiot of the highest order!
Gerry: (takes out the display of hedgehog bells) I GOT IT!
Raj: Excellent news! Now would you mind fucking off and never coming here again ever?
Gerry: Waddid he say, Honey? HERE'S FIFTY POUNDS THAT OUTTA BE ENOUGH.  Ok Honey let's go play mini-golf.
Raj (waving): Go fuck yourself my good man!

And so it was that I found Windsor to be both charming and tacky, historical and hysterical, lovely and awful all at the same time.

We did take the time to tour the castle, which was lovely. There isn't a blade of grass out of place here so I was happy to see this window. I hadn't realized the Queen was a Star Wars fan. Nice.

In this picture, my mum is explaining to Travis how castles work...
One isn't allowed one's camera in the State Apartments in case one reveals military secrets inadvertently on one's blog so there aren't any pictures but it was suitably magnificent.
Her Majesty was arriving that afternoon so all her minions were busy putting stray flowers back in line and having a quiet word with the bees about only buzzing in certain areas of the garden.

 Henry the VIII, who I may have mentioned before, rebuilt part of the castle during his reign and as befits a man of his stature, it is the short, fat part of the castle...but it's still lovely.
Zoe and Georgia did not accompany us to Windsor as they were wreaking havoc in London with a couple of Zoe's friends who live here in the UK, so we had a slightly less silly day than usual, but only slightly...

Will was busy and Meghan is on mat leave so it was only Harry and Kate in attendance today...

It was lovely to come back to our place on Eel Pie Island in the town of Twickenham in the evening. A tiny little pedestrian-only island in the Thames, Eel Pie Island has had a long and storied history that reaches back through the centuries with an alleged beginning as home to a monastery,  then one of Henry VIII's haunts (he was said to have housed a mistress here), and more recently renowned as home to the Eel Pie Island Hotel which served the region's famous eel pies. In the 1960s, the hotel's jazz club became a hot spot for jazz and rock bands with the likes of the Rolling Stones, The Yardbirds, The Who, Pink Floyd and Genesis playing here. Unfortunate;y the owner was a better partier than businessman and eventually the place fell into disrepair and was closed and finally burnt down in the late 60s. In its heyday, Eel Pie Island was said to be the birthplace of the 60s. The island is now home to about 100 residents and their various art studios. It's very quaint and we have loved staying here.

 The view of the Thames from the footbridge. Twickenham Rowing Club lives here and is one of the oldest rowing clubs in Britain.

Our cottage, Ripple.

More bunting. I think this country would fall apart if everyone took down their bunting at once.

We finished off the day with a delicious curry at the local tandoori restaurant in Church Lane here in Twickenham. There seems to always be a party going on here and everyone was in great spirits, including us.
Just have a couple more days here  and then we are heading up north where I hope the wifi is a little better...
Thanks for hanging around,
Jane

UK Day 2: In Which Baby Shark, Leonardo DaVinci, Candied Celery, and Dickens are Featured

We have had two very busy days of tearing it up here in London, and yesterday I was too knackered (as they say here) to write a single word when I finally crawled into bed at who knows what time it was…midnight? 2 in the afternoon? yesterday? Jet lag is a bitch. Here are a few conversations overheard in passing…
Conversation between 3yr old boy in his pushchair (I’m going to call him Precious) and his Mother (aka Clueless) at the exhibit of Leonardo DaVinci’s drawings at The Queens’s Gallery in Buckingham Palace:

Precious: ‘Mamma mamma maama maaaaaaam where are we I want to GET OUT’
Clueless: ‘I’m not sure, Precious, but there are a lot of people here who seem to be very interested. Hold on a moment, I’m going to interrupt one of them to ask them to take my picture’
Precious: ‘MAAAMMA I want to GET OUT NOW!’
Clueless: ‘Just wait a moment Precious I need to ask another person, preferably one with a headset on, to stop what they are doing and take another picture of me, perhaps this time I’ll stand right in front of these drawings of…what is it…The Last Supper… whatever that is, so you can only see me. Yes – what a great idea! Excuse me could you ple…’
Precious: ‘GET OUT NOW GET OUT NOW’
Clueless: ‘Here, Precious, Mummy has a few more people to bother. Why don’t you play with my phone?
Precious: ‘BABY SHARK BABY SHARK!’
Clueless: ‘Sure that seems like a great idea’.
Clueless reaches down and fiddles with her phone, then hands it to Precious who deftly swipes the phone a few times until, unbelievably, ‘Baby Shark’ begins playing.
Clueless (to another surprised  gentleman): ‘excuse me could you please take my picture while I stand in front of these old scribbles of legs and whatnot?’
Precious: ‘BABY SHARK DO DO DO DO DO DO DO BABY SHARK DO DO DO DO DO DO DO…’
Security Guard: ‘Madam, please turn that down' 

Clueless: ‘But then he can’t hear it and he will want to get out’ Ignores security guard and moves to next room.

I suppose scenes like this play themselves out in many galleries around the world, and who am I to say Baby Shark isn’t the best possible soundtrack for an exhibit of Leonardo DaVinci’s collected drawings from the 1500s. I should probably lighten up…
The exhibit was very good, and enlightening too. I hadn’t realized that DaVinci’s true genius wasn’t really recognized in full until the 1900s and while he was well known and sought after as a designer and artist during his life, many of his drawings depicting mechanisms and machinery were not even published until hundreds of years after his death. Considering how close he was to getting things like, oh, a helicopter and a gunship right, who knows what his influence could have been.

Apparently, for anatomical studies, bear feet were easier to come by than human feet.

I wonder what DaVinci would make of Baby Shark.
We always visit Trafalgar Square to climb on the lions and this time was no exception. It was as busy as always but with a happy addition of some silly signage, explained here:

Conversation in the Sign-Making department for Trafalgar Square between Pete and Stu, sign-makers, who are actually Lorry drivers but are just filling in for Mark and Keith who are on their honeymoon:

Stu: Oy, Pete, we done need anuva sign for the square, which says somfing like ‘Don’t Climb on the Lions, you dumb fuck’ except we can’t say the Dumb Fuck bit’
Pete: Right you are I’ll see what I can come up wiv.
Stu: Fanks, Pete.
Pete, a few days later, holds up a sign and reads it out to Stu: ‘Don’t clyme on them lyons they is right slipprey and you might fall off and bash your fick head in’
Stu: Not bad, but what about all them visiters who don’t speak English. Maybe you better make it wiv pictures, Pete.
Pete: Ok give me a few days:
Stu: Fanks.

Pete, a few days later, showing Stu the sign he has installed in Trafalgar Square:

Let’s look at that again, a little closer.

Seriously?

Stu: Great Job, Pete.
Pete: Fanks, Stu.

Talk about cut and paste

Great job, Pete and Stu. Really nailed that one.

We did have a happy stumble across Maison Assouline,  a fantastic book store of sorts which also has a great bar, and a collection of curiosities hidden away upstairs in a room where it was possible to be the only ones in the room (unusual in London). We happily passed some time there.

We had a quick peruse through Fortnum and Mason which was more like visiting the Cheese Shop of Monty Python fame as they seemed to be out of most things we wanted, with the notable exception of some sugared vegetables (probably not a big rush on the candied celery) and of course, marmalade.

Not today, thank you.










We also had one of our daily picnic lunches in Green Park near Buckingham Palace. This was some time after we had had to battle our way across the many streets that were closed off as our arrival coincided with the changing of the guards.


As it had looked like we were never going to get across (and miss our entry time for the Leonardo DaBabyShark exhibit) I had to have a word with the policeman guarding the cross walk: (True story!)

Me: ‘Will we get across these roads in our lifetime or is this it now?’
Him: ‘Be awhile yet’
Me: ‘Any chance you could be slightly more specific? Narrow it down to hours?’
Him: ‘Think of this as a shark-infested swamp’
Me: ‘Oh. So no then?’
Him: You can’t cross here but if you was to cross down there a ways, I couldn’t stop you , could I?’
Me (the light dawning'): Oh OK! I get it thanks! And I think you meant crocodiles or alligators for the swamp analogy’
Him:
Me: Right – thanks then!

At which point we all ran down the road a few metres and then sprinted across several closed streets in front of hundreds of tourists. Good thing they didn’t all go at the same time as us or Him would have been pissed with me.

This building looks like about 90% of the buildings in London, but is unique in that the roof is the site of the last live concert held by the Beetles in 1969. At least that is what the little blue plaque said. If I lived here I would make my own little blue plaques with absolute nonsense on them and put them up all over the place just to watch the tourists stop and take a bazillian photos of nothing.



We finished the day off with drinks at an open air bar inside the Underbelly Festival and then dinner at The George Inn, a pub that dates back to the 1500s in Southwark, and boasts of having Charles Dickens as a regular customer. It, as were all the bars and pubs, was packed as England was playing Norway in the Women’s World Cup. So nice to see giant screens set up and large crowds of men and women cheering England on. In Canada, that sort of thing doesn’t happen for women’s teams. England won 3-0!

That’s it for today – please come back tomorrow as we are going to Windsor and Travis is going to try and steal Prince Harry away from Meghan Markle.
Cheers,
Jane

Back in the UK Day 1: In Which we Meet Mumford and Son's Aunt, and UK Signage Delivers.

Hello everyone and welcome back to the blog. I'm so happy to be here! I'll keep this short and sum up our day with a crowd-pleaser, the Top 5 list of the best things that happened to us today on our first day.




















5. The flight from YVR was not bad as usual as Air Canada seem to have moved on from pre-ironing their lettuce and serving Pasta Dots in a Blood Sauce to providing something that was actually edible, for the most part. There was still a piece of old sponge masquerading as a bun with the added appeal of a frozen centre, and a slice of chocolate cake (and I use the term 'cake' loosely) that could also have been used as a murder weapon should nothing else be handy, it was that dense.  But all in all, it was not unpleasant.
My only suggestion would be to change this sign which could be quite alarming to those who use a wheelchair. What does it even mean? ‘Wheelchair users: press this button to be sucked down a giant toilet’? ‘Tiny wheelchair users will be using the entire toilet, so look out’? And do we really need the graphic of how a toilet works? So many questions. Also, could they please clean their weird signs.

4. Heathrow airport has finally figured out that an arrivals hall with 6ft ceilings and a two hour wait is akin to torture. I was happily surprised  when instead, we were virtually the only ones in the new immigration centre and even more surprised not to have to explain my life history to Gordon the Bored Immigration Officer who looks like he could either go to sleep, or on a murderous rampage depending on one's answers to his inane questions. Instead, I had only to scan my passport and we were through. So refreshing!

3. When we arrived at our house, a charming cottage located near Twickenham, on Eel Pie Island (more on this later) in the Thames River, we were all amazed to see a couple of CDs on a table, not because they were CDs and no one knows what they are anymore, but because of the note tucked under the case.

Perhaps you have heard of Mumford and Sons? As it turns out, the Ms. Mumford I had rented the house from is none other than Marcus Mumford’s Aunt. When she arrived at the house to greet us, needless to say we had a few questions, like, could he come by for a cup of tea, what was he like as a child, and could we all have free tickets to their next concert. No I’m just kidding. We weren’t interested in his childhood.


2. Twickenham is a lovely little spot just west of London. W spent the afternoon napping and exploring and came across, as one does in the UK, the burial place of Alexander Pope, who lived (and died) in Twickenham. Pope was a 17th century writer, essayist and satirist who will be well known to those of us who studied English at school as a bit of a pain in the ass when it came to analyzing his works. Still it was interesting to come across his grave and that of his…wetnurse? nanny? mother?

1. Speaking of being a pain in the ass, I think someone on the Council for Richmond-Upon-Thames might have stepped in dog poo one too many times….

Well alright then.

I would also like to extend a special thank you to June and Tony for being in the Departure Gate for our flight to London yesterday. I always feel a sense of comfort when they show up with their post-wartime dentistry, smart shirts, sensible footwear, and flasks of tea. Bless them! I also saw Lynne and Andy, unmistakeable in his 'I hate Mondays’ tshirt, undoubtedly on their way back to Leeds or Newcastle having just toured Banff, Science World in Vancouver, and the Butchart Gardens. Bless them too. You'll have to take my word for it as I couldn't take a photo but I'm sure I will see them again in London, along with Tom and Barbara, Raj and Viv, and Anne and Rick. The UK does do stereotypes so well!

That’s it for now. More tomorrow!

Thanks for reading,
Jane