Windsor

WHAT: Windsor Castle

WHERE: Windsor, Berkshire County, England

WHEN: 13 March 2010

 

More of my NYU virtual budget pilfered away on old English fortresses. This time, it was Windsor Castle, the largest castle IN THE WORLD. Hotdamn. The Queen wasn’t in residence, so unfortunately no Lizzy run-ins or fawns over William/Harry (like I’ve said, I’m getting less picky as my days in Britain become numbered). But I managed to have myself a pretty good time and miraculously kept myself composed in the face of things like massive Waterloo Chambers and luxuriant sitting rooms and and doll houses so ornate they included miniature versions of the Crown Jewels, as I traversed a mere fraction of the castle’s 484,000 SQUARE FEET. (I guess here is where I allow myself to lose my composure).

We took the hour-long train trip from Waterloo station here in London out to Windsor, a small English town which has managed to find room not just for Windsor Castle but also for Eton School, where da boiz did their learnings back in the day. I’m referring primarily to William and Harry but I guess also one or two others have called themselves Etonians, since the school was founded in 1440. Nothing is young here (except me - 19 years I'ma comin'! See you soon). We never managed to hunt down the school grounds, but I bet they were really plain and small and probably ungilded, like everything else related to English aristocracy. (Actually, I just Wikipedia’d it (credible journalism at your service) and the Eton College Chapel looks quite a bit like King’s College Chapel, the other school founded by little ol’ Henry VI – so I should stop being a jerk, since KCC was top 5 experiences ever).

The town of Windsor is pretty and just as English as every other small town I’ve seen…

..and all right up in the grill of Windsor Castle! (that’s the castle on the right)

This statue of Victoria welcomed (or maybe not, given her pose) us up Castle Hill and into her old stomping grounds.

We got our handy-dandy audio guides and away we went! This is the Round Tower. So descriptive. Thanks, audio guide.

Eventually we found a ginormo gate…

…and peeked through it to see the exteriors of the State Apartments…

…and the Private Apartments and the South Wing and lots of green grass known fondly as the Quadrangle. Look at that, you get housing and protection and magnificence with a side order of geometry lesson.

We loped around and ran into these kids along the way.

We let them walk past and totally paparazzied them. It’s all just practice, you know. (Of course, I also pap’d a few kids, just because practice makes perfect).

Then we got to take a break from all this trudgin’ to stand in line waiting to enter the room with Queen Mary’s Doll House, which was absolutely insane. It took intricacy to a whole new level, because God forbid a royal should get a new Little Tikes and call it a day; experts in each field were called in to make miniatures of their work, so that professional painters did the walls (and ceilings, in some cases) and the tinybaby dishes were made by the same person who did the fancypants china for the real people (and trust me they had SO MUCH china, but I found it actually pretty – OHMYGODWHOAMIBECOMING?).

Unfortunately, pictures were a no-go here and in the rest of the Castle, but my favorite parts were:

- The Waterloo Chamber. A huge dining hall where dinners still take place today; it was incredible to imagine coming out here to Windsor and having a dinner in a room covered in portraits of nobility and coats of arms everywhere and just so much… regal.

- One of Henry VIII’s last suits of armor. He really let himself go.

- Just seeing all this stuff that actual kings and queens just used on a regular basis like it was kind of no big deal. It didn’t sicken me like such opulence usually does, but probably because I just could not for the life of me fathom such a lifestyle.

After an hour or two of castle traipsing, we went back outside to the lovely day and got glimpses of backward British logic: it is not palm trees --> sun, try again. I’m no scientist (I’m not even from Florida) but I know a few things.

We stopped along the way and learned the delicate transition from stalker to friend.

Then into St. George’s Chapel, chapelly as can be.

NO BIG DEAL. It’s full of tombs, but this was the one I was huntin’ for, and when I found it I literally shrieked, “Here they are!” in the middle of the church, and scared the pants off a poor Asian tourist. No-camera-rules, take this. NO BIG DEAL. I think that should be the subtitle of this album, at the rate I’m going.