Once again we Escapees find ourselves pitch side with a game humiliatingly known as “Cricket“ being contested right in front of us.
This place must be lousy with cricket pitches. Many have tried to explain the game’s intricacies to me. Fantastic scores pile up and expand exponentially, seemingly without commensurate effort. I hear matches can go on for days. I suppose it depends on how many tea breaks are called for on the field. I’ll never understand it. But dear Escapees, I know that’s not what you’re here for.
Marce has found us an extremely rare but strange, long and thin parkup in sight of Windsor castle. It’s within reasonable walking distances, so without a moment to lose, due to our usual lack of in-depth planning, we set our course toward the ramparts of Windsor.
At the gates we found a respectable, well behaved but surprisingly small crowd milling about anxious to wave their little plastic Union Jacks at anything remotely properly British.
Aside from the handful of assault rifle toting guards the mood was lighthearted even after learning that the outlandishly over-priced Windsor Castle tour is not happening today. It’s hard to say why but perhaps these folks with the fascinators have something to do with it.
We had no plans to partake but we did learn that the chapel choir of Saint George’s would be performing in a free Evensong service in the same chapel that Meghan and Harry recently got married in. Certainly worth the price and we’d get in the front gate.
Ok, new plan. It’s the beauty of not planning in depth. That’s the moment when the hellish sound of bagpipes struck up and with as much pomp, circumstance, and polite flag waving as possible, advanced through the Windsor gate directly at us.
You just never know who you might run into hanging out in a place like this.
After a quick stroll about town, which is certainly in a festive mood, I found myself chasing after Marce hoofing it off toward Eaton at her usual prodigious pace.
But first a conciliatory stop for ice cream.
Crossing the bridge over Thames River.
Enjoying passing through the quaint town. Quite a bit different than Windsor.
We found a charming cafe that promised the best Coronation Chicken in Eaton. With a twist it’s served in a jacket potato and I thought, how could you possibly go wrong? I’m a fan.
After touching Escape Velocity basecamp we headed back toward Windsor Castle for the Evensong service.
There was a decent sized queue which featured Sister Mary Margaret, the church lady, signing people up for the service and for a sinking moment I thought I would need to know a special password or a secret handshake showing sufficient spiritually, at which time I realized that I wouldn’t stand a chance. However improbable, I passed and as reverently as possible we all walked into that magical place, with the eagle-eyed good sister making sure nobody snuck off to checkout the grounds inside the walls.
The chapel is intimate, much smaller than it looks on TV, but then that’s why we travel. Of course photos weren’t allowed but happy accidents have been known to happen.
It was ethereal, absolutely sublime enveloped in the powerful sound of the pipe organ, then the intricate parts of a capella male voices intertwining and resolving. We were seated in the quire, the singers just opposite, mere feet from us. It was stunning.
When we got back to Escape Velocity they were still playing cricket on the pitch opposite. No surprise there.
