Two alarms and a trans-Atlantic phone call awaited me at 3:50 this morning desperate not to miss my 6 am. flight. Alarms are rarely welcome but I find those interrupting my rem cycle particularly rude. But today I was headed to have tea with the queen – and not even a sour bell could dampen my spirits.
The 4am. walk through the sleeting rain was made bearable by the knowledge that a great big British bear-hug await me upon my arrival to the British grounds…Assuming that I made it there of course. A rather brash Customs agent was rather perturbed at the thought that I had overstayed my welcome in Germany, (as if there is such a thing,) until my unusually shy manner pointed out that I in fact did have legal documentation to be present, leave, and re-enter my current home country in which his entire demeanour changed and I was instantly granted access to the mother-land of America.
A clumpy yogurt complete with over-fermented fruit could not even deter me, though all prayers in the vicinity both far and near that food poisoning not be in my future are all appreciated. A short flight and an early landing showed the first promise of a successful trip until all was triumphed when Julia and her mother greeted me with hugs and Pain au Chocolat. All was well.
And Windsor castle was closed for today – for the Queen must have forgot, that I planned my visit especially today for tea so piping hot. Even though Her Majesty the Queen accidentally misplaced our invitations for afternoon tea, we quickly forgave and managed one on our own accord by the Starbucks variation.
Windsor and Eton are separated only by the Thames, yet starkly different. One buzzing with all nationalities to get a glimpse of the queen, and the other brimming with pride as Union Jack waved in the wind. Eton played home to the school of both Prince William and Prince Harry and we got a small glimpse of the inside of the school.
And apparently they made inedible “cake” there too. In Eton that is. I don’t know about y’all but that ain’t cake. That’s wallpaper paste. No thanks…I’ll have my carbs and eat them too.
The rest of the town was lovely decorated with old pieces of history! Here’s a few pictures to enjoy!
Upon my arrival to their charming country home, I was told that we would be staying in Diagon Alley… Well that left me rather confused to say the least until I saw the sign…
Greeted warmly, we rested for only a moment before dining upon a British must-have of fish and chips. And was it delicious! The lightly battered Cod just melted away in my mouth and the warm Chips fresh from the frying pan gently sprinkled with vinegar and salt reminded me of times with my well-traveled grandparents after they had shared this tradition with me! The Fish&Chips was to be accompanied by a side-salad…And well, I suppose it was. But it was more rather a bed of shredded lettuce with two tomatoes for eyeballs staring up at me begging me, “Pleaseeeee, Please don’t eat me.”
And all I could think about was the scene in Ariel where Sebastian is stuck in the kitchen running from the Chef trying not to die and become that night’s dinner.
Anywho tomatoes don’t actually have feelings and we all survived. A lovely post-dinner tour provided the perfect end to a wonderful first day in the UK. The town was as it should be, quaint with cobblestone roads, and a church on a hill next to a lighted lamppost as to help guide all those who wander to its open doors preaching the good news to those who will listen.
For now, these beautiful 18 hours that God has blessed me with today have left me happy and tired. A good happy and an even better tired. For tonight, Goodnight and blessings to you all!