The Queen’s Hometown

 

Finally, after a week of chills and fever from the Philosopher, myself and the weather, I am catching up on photos from last weekend! We went to Windsor with my friend Mary. Windsor, for those of you out of touch with the monarchy, is the origin of the House of Windsor in 1917, after George IV patriotically changed his ‘surname’ from the German Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. Wise move.

You do get the sense, in Windsor, that the town has been trying to live up to its royal heritage in all areas of life.

Take, for instance, the public toilets. Loo of the year! (I wonder whose job it was to ‘test out’ all of Britain’s public restrooms. Also, I wonder exactly how that happened. Or, then again, maybe I don’t.)

Windsor Castle rises dramatically out of the town centre, in equally regal fashion. Castle of the Year?

The only thing that mars the view is the constant criss-crossing of huge planes overhead taking off and landing at Heathrow airport.

The Philosopher and I didn’t know that Eton is just a 5 minute walk over a bridge from Windsor. You do wonder…did the young princes ever invite their classmates home on the weekend?

We spent a bit too long gawking/giggling at the penguin suited Etonians. We were wondering how rigorous Eton actually is academically, but soon felt reassured when we walked by a few 12 year olds making jokes about number theory.

We found the famous road to Windsor – can you spot the castle at the end of it?

Here’s a better look.

And best of all, we spent a few glorious hours in the company of Mary and (added bonus) the sunshine! Haven’t seen it much since, but the mere glimpse of it in these photos does cheer the heart.

Happy Friday!

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