London Calling: I Could Have Been Henry’s 7th Wife


We started off the day at 6:00 am departing the hotel by 7:30 at the latest. We were heading out on an all day excursion to Windsor Castle, Stonehenge, ending with a bit of free time in Bath.

We made it on the bus and on our way to Windsor at about 8:30am. I fell asleep with in 25 minutes, missing most of the drive by tour, but waking just early enough to witness the bus get hit by a truck. I can say this with little or no care because no one was hurt, and it wasn’t a large deal. After an exchange of information we were back on our way. As we approached the castle my mind was racing with all of the episodes of The Tudors I had watched. I am still a bit angry that Henry VIII and Jonathan Rhys Meyers don’t in fact match. Mainly because Jonathan R-M is one gorgeous man, that could make a non-healing infected leg wound seem increasingly sexy, and well, the real King wasn’t so much attractive as he was a King, and that’s why women loved him.
We walked through Queen Mary’s Dolls house, which showed one of her passions, because her collection was quite extensive. Then it was on to the drawing gallery that was actually showing 60 years of the Queen in honor if her Diamond Jubilee. It was amazing to see how she evolved and changed this country, without losing herself. There were affectionate pictures if her with her husband, children and dogs. Then there was the picture of get meeting Lady Gaga. I almost died. I literally yelled and laughed out of excitement. Hah I’m a loser.

After the drawings gallery it was on to the state apartments where we got to see original paintings of all the kings and queens and princes and princesses. The bedrooms, dressing rooms, and halls. There was one room that could literally fit our entire house inside of it along with a good section of yard. I felt so insignificant, until I learned The Queen herself, was in residence. While I understand that she was most likely not anywhere near us, obviously, it was awesome to hear she was actually there. It made the trip for me.

We were able to go into St. George’s Chapel where we saw Henry VIII’s tomb where he lies with Jane Seymour, King Charles I and the unborn infant son from his marriage with Ann Boleyn. Obviously she was no where near that chapel. After some shopping we were back on the bus headed to Stonehenge.

Once we arrived, the rain pouring down, I wasn’t nearly as impressed as I thought I should be. If anything I was a bit let down. I mean yeah they are really neat, but I didn’t have an experience like I was almost told I would. I got more excited at the hot apple cider they were selling. It was interesting that the rocks were placed in that way without use of machinery and the fact that the type of rock wasn’t actually from this country. Which means those large stones-6000 years ago- had to be transported as well. Yeah it’s cool, just it didn’t carry the meaning I guess it’s supposed to.

Then it was off to Bath! We were told about the hot springs, and the history with the Romans and the celtics, but there was nothing that could prepare me for seeing Jane Austen’s house. I was floored. I love her and all of her writing, so seeing the place she lived made the whole thing a reality.

We decided to skip touring the Roman baths and took a seat in The Pump Room, for afternoon tea. Lots of little cakes, sandwiches with cream cheese and chive, ham and tomato, scones with clotted cream and preserves, and of course English breakfast tea. Listening to the piano player serenade us with “Moon River” and “If I Never Fall In Love” capping off our afternoon. Although a rushed Tea experience, we still had it. It’s made me want to plan out tea parties at my house. Get ready friends of mine. It’s going to happen, and it’s going to be fabulous.

Heading back to Lindon we are given one more story from our guide. We are pointed to a massive house on the side of the hill that is for sale. Currently it is Jane Seymour’s house of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman fame – and she is apparently a partier, as the property has a liquor license. She’s moving because of complaining townspeople.

So we drive back, tired and still soaking up the tea in our bellies with the scones we have consumed, we pass Stonehenge again and I snap a blurry shot, just because it was there, and I’ll hum along to the piano still playing ever so lightly in my ears.

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