Chertsey Club Site, Surrey

      

We have spent the last two days revisiting royal palaces in the vicinity, both the reason we have returned here to this Chertsey camp. On the night of our arrival here, we dined out at the Boatshed Restaurant, that which caters for the guests of the Bridge Hotel within view of our spot here in the camp, but a five minute walk away as one skirts the mooring inlets on the river. I was a little reluctant about our choice, thinking the competitor across the river might offer a greater choice and better ambiance, however the service was timely and friendly, the price was fair, particularly after the 20% discount we were offered as guests of the Chertsey Club Site here, so we went the whole hog indulging ourselves in three courses. 

Yesterday dawned drizzly and colder than we have enjoyed over the past few weeks. We headed eastwards following the river downstream, until we reached Hampton Court Palace, arriving at the opening time of 10 am. We fed the hungry parking meter, one pound after another until after nine of these, we were offered six hours parking, and then set off on foot ten minutes along the road to join the other tourists flocking toward this very historic royal palace.

I have written extensively about this when we visited in June 2016, so will not repeat myself here, or try not to. Then we found ourselves short changed for time and left before exploring all the palace, the art galleries or any of the gardens. Yesterday we made sure we had time to complete the exercise.

There was a lot of activity going on that had little to do with history; the Hampton Court Palace Festival was in the process of being set up. In fact last night Lionel Ritchie was to perform, a concert that would have been quite fabulous to have attended. Performers on other nights are to include Tom Jones, Paloma Faith, The Beach Boys, Gary Barlow and more names that meant little to me, plus a grand display of fireworks accompanied by the Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra.  The Festival runs from 5 June through to 23 June which accounts for the extent of the temporary structures going up everywhere thereabouts.

We spent some time wandering around the gardens, by which time the sun had come out and the temperatures improved somewhat. The Palace grounds are massive; especially if you consider that adjacent Bushy Park was once part of this. The original gardens were laid out by the builder of the palace, Cardinal Wolsey, in the early 1500s, and Henry VIII enjoyed the fruits of his mentor’s work after he brought about his downfall.  Much later Charles II created a formal baroque garden, digging a great three quarter mile long canal in celebration of his marriage; avenues of over two thousand lime trees lined the Long Water. Later again, William III and Mary II continued their Uncle Charles’s plan; in fact Mary was a very keen gardener.

I was keen to view the palace from the River Thames; after all, it was here that so many visitors arrived at the palace back in its heyday. Above the river, to keep the hoi polloi out and the paying tourists in, is an ornate wrought iron screen, the 1701 work of Jean Tijou, a master blacksmith who fled religious persecution in France. He did much of the ironwork throughout the formal gardens and inside the palace, but sadly was never paid for his efforts.

We popped into the purpose built glasshouse to see the largest grape vine in the world, certified by the Guinness Books of Records as such. The base has a circumference of 3.8 metres and branches typically measuring up to thirty three metres long; in 2005 the longest measured 75 metres. It’s been a tourist attraction all by itself since the 19^th century, and in about 1905, a special glasshouse with a public viewing cabin was built to accommodate the queues. The vine house was upgraded in 1964 and still attracts the masses.

The vine was planted in 1768 for George III by our old mate Capability Brown, who was then the Chief Gardener at Hampton Court Palace. It produces a large crop of sweet Black Hamburg table grapes which are still picked for sale to the early birds who arrive at the palace in season for this delicacy.

We also spent time working our way through already visited exhibitions, those about Henry VIII, William & Mary and the Hanoverians kings, absorbing facts all over again and coming closer to understanding the complexities of the ruling houses of this country.

As we pulled out of the car park, I glanced at my watch and saw it was exactly 3.49 pm, the expiry time on our parking ticket; we had managed our time perfectly.

This morning, with the weather forecasted to be fine and warm, we set off toward Windsor, a little to the north west of the camp. We found ourselves a park in the same spot as two years ago, paid for “over 5 hours”, the maximum time, and set off on foot along the road back toward Windsor and the castle.

We spent more than three and a half hours in the castle precinct, duplicating our previous tour, but leaving out Queen Mary’s Doll’s House, which once seen is not worth bothering with again, unless you are into that sort of thing. The State Apartments impressed us even more than last time and when we marvelled at this fact, we decided that we had been overwhelmed last time, and this time were able to focus more on the history and artworks, rather than  the opulence of the rooms. We enjoyed St George’s Chapel as we had before; it truly is a magnificent place of worship and it is no wonder that Prince Charles and his younger son chose to celebrate their marriages there, albeit in varying circumstances.

Rather than walk The Long Walk and become thoroughly lost and dehydrated as we did two years ago, we spent several hours exploring the vibrantly festive town of Windsor and the one street of Eton across the River Thames.

Eton is well known for its College, to which the country’s noble, rich or ambitious send their little boys to be subjected to the ghastly traditions of English Public Schools. I guess in this modern PC world, matters have been become more measured and gentle. For us who were simply wandering up the High Street, with no tour booked or any expectation of entry, there was little to see but a collection of large buildings with modest signage suggesting “schools”, or libraries, or “private” residences. Towering over the village and standing out in the vista below the Castle’s North Terrace, is the massive Gothic style 15^th century chapel. Actually the word “chapel” tends to conjure up pictures of something intimate and welcoming, but the exterior of this does neither. It rises up and seems to oversee the entire village. Later research turned up much history and description, but since I saw nothing but the outline, I shall comment no further.

We walked back around the water meadows of Eton, crossing back across the Thames, and then headed upriver along the riverside walkway, pausing to admire the river boats, the narrow boats and the numerous birdlife, swans the most numerous. After some distance we turned and headed back into Windsor, passing through Alexander Park, the various towers and crenulations of Windsor Castle within view.

Back at the car, we agreed we had done well to pay for more than five hours parking, and that we had enjoyed our visit of Windsor even more than previously.