A Visit to Windsor, Bath, and Stonehenge

Hello and happy sleepy, springtime Sunday everyone!  I hope this finds all of you well, happily wrapping up another week and starting the next.  Personally, I find myself waking up on Sundays lately thinking, "No! It can't be next week yet!"  It seems the moon and sun are chasing each other across the sky more and more quickly these days, leaving me less and less time to savour my last few weeks in Europe.  It was this thinking that led me to book an all-day, history-filled tour of some of the places I've longed to see the most.  So, yesterday, after a sleepless night (I can never sleep knowing I have to catch a ride before dawn), I jumped out of bed at 4:30 a.m., grabbed my camera and a sweater, and made my way to the bus station in the dark of morning - that time of day that only the chirping birds know to exist.

My coach arrived at Victoria Station early, around 7:20 a.m., which left me an hour to find my coach in Fountain Square for the tour.  I had scribbled down walking directions from the station, and had written at the bottom, "Should only take 3 minutes."  That's what Google Maps said.  So, I began walking in what I thought was the right direction and ended up strolling about for nearly ten minutes without ever seeing one of the streets that I was supposed to.  I turned around and arrived back at the coach station to start over in the opposite direction, where I walked another five minutes without coming across any of the streets listed in my notes.  I stopped and asked a police officer and then a bakery owner, both of whom pointed me in opposite directions.  By this time, the cap of my water bottle decided to fall off while in my bag, soaking my camera, my tickets, and my leg.

I made my way back to the start again, and re-read the map offered at the station... totally confused as to how I could miss a square - thinking there would be all kinds of shops and people bustling about.  So, I asked a nearby taxi driver if my destination was within walking distance or if I should catch a ride.  He kindly pointed in an entirely new direction and gave me a detailed description of when to make the proper turns.  I followed his advice to a T and ended up in the bus/taxi/coach building that is Fountain Square.  Perhaps had I known that I would be looking for a giant garage rather than an outdoor square with shops and a fresh morning market, I would have found it more quickly.

But I digress!  I had made it, nearly thirty minutes early.  I dried myself and my belongings off and watched more and more tourists show up.  A girl about my age from Canada was the first to arrive, and then an obnoxious thirty-something from America, along with his girlfriend, then soon after about twenty Japanese university students.  All the while, though I tried to focus my thoughts on what I'd be seeing over the course of the day, my body was gradually going numb.  I haven't posted anything about this, because I don't seek pity or attention for it, but I've been having some health issues lately that my mom has been insisting I see the medical center for - and after my experience yesterday, I will be their first appointment tomorrow - plus, it adds to my story!  Gradually, the numbness worsened, I was unable to make out what anyone was saying to me, and when they began to fade to black, I fell my way in to the tour office.  A couple of the staff members helped me to sit onto a box of tour brochures as there were no seats, and stayed with me until I came back to reality.  A jolly bald-headed British military man, whose suit indicated that he was a tour guide for the company, tried to make light of the situation by assessing it, and insisting that it seemed I was nothing more than drunk - then went on to list the insane amount of synonyms the British have for the term "drunk."  After sitting for a few minutes and laughing with him, I determined I was not about to miss the tour and returned to the back of the line that I had once been the head of.

We loaded onto our tour bus minutes later, and I was surprised when our tour guide, Deleanne, began speaking, after handing out little audio earpieces for us to listen to her, because she spoke in a very non-British accent.  I later found out she was Canadian.  She wore a full suede suit complete with fringe and I was surprised her leather boots were missing their spurs.  I was a little down that I'd be touring English sights with a non-English tour guide, but could not have been more disheartened than when, between the high-pitched ring of the earpiece and her introducing herself, I heard the bus driver say, "Where are we going?"  Deleaane knitted her brows, covered her microphone (which made no difference as we all heard her anyway) and she half whispered, half yelled, "Windsor Castle!" to which he replied, "And how do we get there?"  I was tempted to jump off of the bus right then and there.

I bit my lip and said a little prayer that whatever the day held for us, we would actually make it to the places we'd signed up to see.  The ride to Windsor from central London is rather short and, although the majority of the time Deleanne spent giving the driver directions and attempting to get our tickets for our entrance to the castle ready, she did throw out some interesting facts along the way... pointing out a few of Princess Diana's favorite restaurants and cafes, giving us history on the Grosvenor area, and telling us about Her Royal Majesty's life at Windsor (her official residence), including how she gets to and from Windsor to London in a car like anyone else (except with loads of security cars dancing about her) and, at 85, still goes riding on her favorite horse, George, nearly every day.

When we arrived, I was astounded to learn that Windsor is not just a castle - it's an actual town.  Where have I been?  Of course, the castle is gated off from everything else, but remains very much visible to anyone who lives, walks, shops, or arrives in the area.

When we left the bus, Deleanne yelled time and again the time we were to meet back at the coach and popped open a giant, pink, kitten shaped umbrella to which she held high above her head so that we could follow her.

At the rate my morning was going, I was not surprised at all that I ended up in this group.  None of the events at this point had caused me to lose any interest whatsoever in the day's trip, but aside from an occasional laugh with the Canadian girl, I felt totally out of place as we made our way towards the castle considering all of the voices around me were speaking in Japanese and there was no talking from our guide on the way to the castle.

I felt like even more of an outcast while standing in line to get into the castle, which seemed nearly a mile long, when Deleanne came over to me and said, "Why, you're on the Discover Tour... you can jump the line.  We'll see you later!"  I have no idea what the "Discover Tour" is, but what it came down to was my getting to jump the line, have an extra twenty minutes than everyone else, and owe fifteen pounds extra than I should have.  I think.  I was certain when I purchased my tour ticket online that I had paid for general entrance to the sites, but I felt that this kind of fit how my day was going.  Bloody false advertising! So, I winced as I handed over a twenty pound note and took my ticket, then shrugged it off and headed for the castle entrance.  Only having an hour and a half meant I had work to do!

And upon passing through the walls, I totally forgot about the start to my morning.  The castle that greeted me was absolutely breathtaking in every way - medieval, covered in spring blooms, and basking in the early Saturday sun that decided to make an appearance soon after I passed through the gate.

I spent a great deal of time marveling at the gardens that surrounded the castle, in what was meant to be its moat.  Because I was one of the first people in, and had beat the crowd of tourists, I took a moment to pretend that I lived at Windsor Castle.  I imagined myself waking up to a warm cup of tea, which I would drink on the balcony of one of the windows overlooking the gardens while watching the crowd of people begin to stroll in and snap one picture after another of my home.  That's when I realized that maybe it's true that the life of the Queen isn't an easy one.  A day of privacy is likely unheard of.  I mean, what if you simply wanted to stand on the balcony in your bathrobe and horrible bed-head for a few minutes with a cup of tea in the morning without risking your reputation?  And I was happy then, to be one of the tourists snapping pictures.

I spent a few minutes gazing down at the town below, trying to imagine what it might have looked like hundreds of years ago.

I wish I could show you what the inside of the castle looked like, but unfortunately, no cameras were allowed to be out once entering it.  I will confirm that it is equally as stunning on the inside.  There are many well-preserved artifacts, including Queen Mary's Doll Collection, lots of china, swords and suits of armor, paintings (including some from Rembrandt!), furniture, clothing, jewelry, the whole lot.  I nearly stumbled over the fancy rug beneath my feet while gazing up at the giant chandeliers and out of the massive windows overlooking the castle grounds.  While I was aware that the royals have always had the best and fanciest, I couldn't believe the perfection of every plate and fork, every crown and sword, even those from the 1400-1500s.  Seriously, I'd be nervous to eat a meal on that china today, let alone way back then!  Click here for a link to see what's inside Windsor if you're interested.

When heading out to see a bit of the town and get back to the coach, I passed a few souvenir shops and a tiny, royal ice-cream truck, which I would most certainly insist on having on my castle's property, and which I would visit every day, twice a day :)

Also before exciting the castle grounds, you're able to stop in St. George's Chapel, which is, not surprisingly, quite astonishing as well.  Once again, I wasn't allowed to take pictures inside, but click here for a link to see more about it!

I stopped and purchased a few postcards and laughed at the incredible amount of Royal Wedding memorabilia, including blankets, calendars, magnets, teddy bears, shot glasses, and just about anything else you can imagine Will & Kate's faces on, and even a few things you'd never want to imagine their faces on.  I grabbed a sandwich and a drink and practically ran back to the coach, where I saw not only one, but two coaches from the same company.  I climbed onto one of them thinking it was mine, but didn't see the water bottle or headset I had left in my seat, so as I began to exit, I saw that jolly, bald-headed British man from earlier in the morning.  I joked that I had gotten on the wrong coach and he commented, "Well! That's too bad, my driver and I sure would love to have you... really, you should come with us."  As I made my way onto my own coach, I found myself watching him and his driver laughing and talking with their group.  I was a little irritated when my own tour guide came back and said, "Oh, I actually changed our take off time, you could have stayed another ten minutes."  I kept my cool and started to eat my lunch though, and heard her complaining to the other tour guides outside that our coach had been overbooked and she needed to kick someone off, onto their coach.  When I saw her pink, kitten shaped umbrella come back on the bus, I knew exactly what she was going to ask me.  She said another lady was supposed to have been the one to get on the other coach, but if I didn't mind, could I leave?  And friends, I cannot tell a lie.  I already had my bag in my hand.

I happily hopped on over to the coach ran by Tony the tour guide (the bald guy) and Dennis the driver.  

I instantly felt better about the day.  I was able to sit in the front seat, with all kinds of room for my legs to stretch.  Tony's bus had a microphone that was updated enough to work without us having to wear static-filled earpieces that are too big for my tiny ears.  Dennis knew where we were going and how to get there.  I met a lovely Australian couple and a French guy that kept me company while Tony went around the coach answering all kinds of questions about England.  He had great stories to tell.  His grandparents were directly affected by WWII and Hitler, and his grandmother had met the Queen who had visited with workers to help comfort them, which led to him discussing the benefits of a monarchy. He had received his diploma from the hand of the Queen upon his graduation, and impressed us with a great knowledge of Britain's history.

Before I knew it, we were entering Bath.  I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but when I was looking into study abroad programs, I narrowed my choices down to Canterbury and Bath, and while I'm very happy with my choice, having visited Bath, I wish I could have spent a semester here and one there, or you know, could study abroad for ten more years :)

Perhaps one of the best parts of driving into the city was the landscape.  Tony pointed out when we were passing through the Cotswolds... an area that the government has banned building on, and is known for its natural beauty.  The walls and bridges were built of beautiful local stone and it was the hilliest area I've been through while in England.  Someone pointed out a white 'thing' in the distance, to which Tony replied was the suspension bridge connecting Bath to Wales.  Yes, we drove that far!

I immediately fell in love with how Roman the place looked... it was a very different feel than the typical medieval cities I've visited and the architecture was to die for!

I'm not sure if I was supposed to pay for my entrance to the Roman Baths, considering this tour was a bit of an upgrade from my own and because I had had to pay at Windsor, but Tony handed me an entrance ticket with a wink, as I was now a part of his own group.  Did I mention I believe in good luck after living here?

 

The baths were even more spectacular than I'd imagined.  It's hard to believe nature can create such masterpieces, but then again, nature's something we should never underestimate.  Nor should one underestimate the architects of long ago - just look at how gorgeous the hot springs' surroundings are!  I loved the statues looking down on the main bath and the abbey just behind - picture perfect!

There were lots of ancient artifacts in the Roman Bath museum as well - including original statues from the original temple, as well as information on the historic bathing rituals, and real life "Romans" wandering about the terrace.

Tony offered to meet up with us early if we wanted a tour of the town as well, before leaving.  He is actually from Bath, so he knew all of the places worth seeing in such a short amount of time!  He explained the importance of the Bath Abbey, which locals refer to as "The Light of the West," since eighty percent of its walls are stained-glass windows!  I wasn't surprised to see a figure of Henry VIII above the door, nor to learn that the reason two headless figures were headless was by his order for them to be beheaded once they turned Protestant, not only in real life, but in their brick form as well.  Oh, Henry.  It was also interesting to learn that England's first King was crowned at the Abbey by the Archbishop of Canterbury!  I feel so connected to history here :)  One might think cathedral after cathedral and abbey after abbey may get a bit boring, but I suppose that I enjoy how they all differ in their character and in their stories.

We then went to the town square, where there were lots of street musicians and outdoor cafes, as one might expect.  While all of the buildings were clearly well kept, some of them had black patches on one part or another - which we learned were not caused by a fire or bad paint jobs, but rather, years and years of pollution, which city cleaners leave alone to indicate authenticity of their age.  Yuck!  I personally fell for the buildings with cute windows and flower boxes, and the astounding perfection on the town's "rich" street, where one place is currently up for sale for 8 million pounds (nearly double that and you get the amount in U.S. dollars.)  Yikes!

 

Before we boarded the coach again, Tony insisted we visit his friend's chocolate shop for the best chocolate in Bath.  Having tried some, I'd say that this wasn't the best chocolate in Bath.  No.  This was the best chocolate in the world.  The sweets are made every morning, and if you don't mind waiting, you can request a special order and have it made as you watch!  I tried a few milk-chocolate covered caramels and white chocolates, but could have spent an entire day taste-testing!  The chocolatier was teaching a class while we visited, and was so enthusiastic, I had to capture it.

Getting on the coach again, we heard echoes of the huge, chanting rugby crowd, on the field that was probably about a half of a mile away.  It gave me goosebumps.  When driving out of the city, we saw thousands of people jumping and cheering, and I was a little sad to be crossing the bridge and leaving so soon.  I will live in Bath one day.

 

Tony and Dennis break the rules on a regular basis and do the tour a bit backwards because it allows for more time at each place and makes sense - but also gives Dennis the ability to take a scenic route from Bath to Stonehenge instead of the motorway.  I am so fortunate to have ended up on their tour!  We passed through several villages with extremely old chapels and homes, Tony pointed out the canals (if I ever have a honeymoon, I'm doing a canal trip through England), and we were able to see ancient battle mounds dotted throughout the fields (many times there were two mounds beside each other, one for humans and one for their animals.)

To be completely honest, Stonehenge kind of snuck up on me.  I think that's the way Tony likes to play it.  He goes on about the history just before getting there and then exclaims, "Oh! There it is!"  And to continue with my complete honesty, Stonehenge really is a pile of large rocks, albeit strategically placed, in the middle of nowhere, in a massive field surrounded by sheep.  And it is the absolute most amazing pile of large rocks in a field filled with sheep that anyone will ever see.  

It's magnificent and awe-inspiring.  I don't care that the audio-tour gave an explanation for how the builders got the two-ton rocks mile after mile to their destination and set them up on top of one another in precisely the way they planned.  It's a miracle, and to have such dedication and determination nowadays for something like that, in my mind, is a rarity.  Tony offered his step-by-step theory, which differed a bit from the official audio tour given by Stonehenge, but he also added that the explanation, which my dad insists on for works like Stonehenge and the pyramids, could also be possible:  aliens.

I couldn't get over how some people pass Stonehenge everyday on their way to work, or school, or home.  It's very likely they don't think a thing of it, or even give it a second glance after so long.  I'm desperately trying not to take anything for granted after my experience abroad, and hope that I can be in love with my surroundings wherever I am in the future, instead of just passing them by.

Note the road in the background.

Boarding the coach for the last time, while the sun and looming rain clouds fought for the sky, I hadn't fully grasped the idea that I had just visited the places I've dreamed about for years.  It was such a whirlwind of a day and I believe I was in a bit of a shock, really.  I recall being the 'nerd' in fourth and fifth grade, watching television specials on English history, studying on my own time from a dusty old set of encyclopedias my mom wanted (and still wants) to get rid of, and telling myself one day I'd see Stonehenge.  It's a little surreal to grow up and keep that kind of promise to my ten-year-old self.

Our coach arrived back at Victoria right on time (I learned that Deleanne's coach was running behind us all day long) and I was able to amend my ticket for a coach back to Canterbury so that I would arrive two hours earlier than expected.  As much as I wanted to stay in London for a couple of hours, I still wasn't feeling the greatest, and was ready to not be in a coach for awhile!  I had enough time to grab a veggie wrap, which I scarfed down in record time while a young child watched with an expression that I can only describe as pure terror (I look pretty scary when I'm hungry I guess!)  and got on my final coach for the day, back to ye olde Canterbury.  I kept my eyes open until we were out of London, because as I've stressed before, it's too wonderful a site to ignore, and opened them again only when I knew I'd be seeing the top of the cathedral that welcomes me home each and every time.

I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow, and didn't mind at all that I woke around 7:30 this morning, since I woke to the sun shining and a singing bird perched on my windowsill.  Sometimes, life is perfect.

Love,

Aly