It is Sunday morning, We have tickets for Buckingham Palace. When I bought online I had visions of a reserved Sunday morning. The description by London Pass sounded like the visit was intimate. As with invitation to the Queen’s Garden Party, anything less than 8,000 is cozy. I should have become curious with the constant use of the word “exclusive”.
The palace generates income for the royal family. A constant viewing of the rooms of state accomplish that when the Queen is away for the summer.
The effort is superlative. The crowds move quickly. It is not intimate but it is rewarding.
We are up at 6:30. Entrance is at 9:45 AM and demand attendance in line by 9:30.
I ordered online and only have confirm of purchase. Instructions are not clear if these are sufficient for entry or more is needed.
We take a black cab to the Palace. We want assurance that we will arrive timely and secondly, we are not certain where gate C is located. Again, London cabs are expensive. I remember 26 months ago thinking that cabs were the way to travel to London with groups of four and competitive with the Underground. I was wrong. It is partly the traffic- nothing moves. There are constant minutes wasted waiting sometimes 15 cars deep at a light while the meter clicks.
The Underground is the affordable method around London. And walking.
At Gate C, the line is not bad. Tours begin every fifteen minutes. There goes exclusivity.
Bill and Caroline go for a walk. Betty and I stay in line with a mixture of 9:30 & 9:45. Apprehension takes hold. That feeling of getting to the gate and being rejected as all around you begin to laugh at your failure. “Everyone knows you need a ticket”.
I decide to find the ticket office for my answer. I am informed to proceed to number four to obtain my tickets. I am glorious.
The line is advancing as I approach. Caroline and Bill have not returned. Betty is bravely holding the line and wonders “what fool did I marry”.
Within minutes, we are a group again and moving into the waiting area. There are benches. We sit. Others enter and strain to push forward. We now understand the system. Whether at the front or rear, you will receive your headphones and invited to meander through the public palace.
Eventually you realize the everything is temporary. When the Queen returns, all will disappear in a day or two.
It is a great tour. Prince Charles’s voice is masterful and patient. The self guided tour is logical and easy to use.
The art collection is impressive. Charles II definitely wanted to restore the glory of the monarchy. The collection is heavy on Northern Renaissance- Dutch - art which is great and informative. Rembrandt, Rubens.
Many of the paintings in the halls are portraits. I note that for men the manly bulge below the waist is always to the left which leads me to suspect that fashion dictates and that my curiosity has no limit.
The rooms are heavy on gold. They would be Trumpian but they have class.
The tour is about 2 1/2 hours. We walk the royal gardens. The gardens run parallel to a major avenue and you are only aware of the serenity. You walking in a rich English country oasis with two swans
feeding as they move up the creek. Not a sound
The blast hits you immediately as you cross the gate.
We are exhausted. Over twenty hours traveling to London, then staying up Saturday to acclimate to the time change, we are tired.
It is London. So much to see for the first time and again. We walk through St James Park to Trafalgar Square. It is Saturday and it is full of life. There is a new lion in the Square and he is neon red. He glows. An artist exhibit.
Security has changed the access. You now enter to the left of the great stairs and columns. This great museum is free. You are only asked for a donation.
It is crowded with individuals and tours.
Of course, Caroline and I march everyone to the cafe. It is as we left it twenty three months ago. The walls, the tables, the chairs, the barista.
Life and happiness in a shared smile and joy. The barista’s English has improved. The Americano, mocha and pastries are as we left them- exquisite.
Now we have time. Wow, we missed so much. The collection is superlative. Historically, not as broad as the Louvre or Uffici. The collection is strong on Dutch painters. They were prolific They worked on commissions. The Italians were patronized by the church and the wealth of Florence, Milan and the Church. These painters relied on the wealth of capitalists. They are portraits.
I notice the eyes of Rembrandt’s paintings. No blue eyes. If Rembrandt was kind, the eyes are expressive.
We have separated to meet again in the cafe. Of course, I get lost trying to find a Caravaggio.
It is now a little before 5 PM and we search out Wagamana. It is a Ramen restaurant chain in England. Our last visits it, Angela and John lead us this great treat.
We leave Trafalgar Square. Caroline has downloaded this great app which allows you off line track yourself. She is our guide.
It is not the same restaurant. The crowd is less than we expected. It is busy. Staff is quick and efficient.
It is remarkable how a Chinese beer and a bowl of noodles restores you.
We leave and walk to Coventry. It is better than before. Obviously work has been done. There are still the street performers. This time we watch and listen to a baritone singing arias from operas. Very enjoyable evening.
As we walk through there is a kiosk selling men’s hats. Bill and I each buy a hat. A practical souvenir.
It is about 8:30 and a black cab is elected over the Underground. We are close to two lines - Picadilly and District. But it is quarter mile walk from the stations to the apartment that hastens our decision to spend the monies.
Tomorrow The Globe, Shakespeare, the Tower, St Paul
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