It seems fair to say that Queen Victoria was obsessed with Prince Albert. Guy got the full royal treatment with this 176-foot monument. A hundred years later the poor man would be reduced to a setup for a bad prank phone call. “Do you have Prince Albert in a can?” That was well before my time and yet that was really the extent of my knowledge of Prince Albert prior to this trip.
Windsor Castle. Just another 1,000 years of history.
Queen Mary’s Doll House. The details are insane.
Grammy, if you can believe it, got shingles this week—a spot on her back. Fortunately, we were able to access healthcare here in London very easily. A phone call with a doctor and a couple of pics sent over text and she had the prescription she needed. Shingles suck, and medication or not, they are painful. She’s been a trooper, though.
It’s hard to imagine actually living in one of these tourist hotspots. Lovely towns, beautiful backdrops, but ridiculous amounts of people.
Queen Victoria a couple decades after losing Prince Albert. She does not look like she’d be much fun at family gatherings.
I’m sure our AirBnB hosts will appreciate all the new wildlife we’ve invited to their back patio.
One afternoon while Grammy and Lowe hung out at home, the rest of us walked down to the British Museum. Figured we’d just stroll around for a while and see whatever we’d see. We were inside for about ten minutes before we collectively decided to retreat. Inside was just a wall of humanity pressing painfully slowly through inescapable halls. It was impossible to enjoy.
They thought they’d hit the bathroom before we left. Jokes on them. The line covered two stories.
A nearly 200-year-old umbrella shop. I’m sorry, I just can’t get over England’s age. This must also be a testament to their weather.
Not everyone loves Banksy, I guess.
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And that was it for London. We rented a car, accepted the fact that we’d be hit by a bunch of fines as we drove out of the city (driving restrictions that are indecipherable to anyone that doesn’t live there, and the ever-present big brother—remember where 1984 is set—won’t let you get away with one wrong turn) and headed for the coast. It can be easy when in the city to forget just how agricultural England is.
On to Brighton Beach we go. I dropped the family off and then went off to find the carpark. The walk back gave me a good feel for the place.
We were pleasantly surprised by our condo here. Certainly couldn’t beat the view.
Ouest has an old cruising friend that happens to live just down the road a bit. They last hung out in Malaysia, on a very different beach.
The tidal range is a whopping ~15′ here.
We didn’t realize the fun police would be shutting the pier down at like 8:00.
