Today is “on the move” day.  We have an arduous journey to Windsor that involves a tube ride, transfer to a train, transfer to another train and a walk.  Oy.

Our bags are packed, mostly and we’ve managed to fit coats and jackets into the nooks and crannies.  My hat finally showed up.  My cane is fully extended.  I ate half a coffee/chocolate bar and my burgeoning caffeine headache is at bay.  We ate yogurt and granola bars for breakfast.

The plan is to leave the luggage at the hotel, bus to the British Museum, visit the Elgin Marbles and meet my London compatriot.  Following that we’ll return for luggage and begin our multi-step journey to Windsor.  I’m wearing a knee brace.  Wish us luck!!

There comes a point in every vacation when you run out of steam and tolerance and just hate where you are and what you’re doing.  Turns out that “on the move” day coincides with me kind of hating the world.

The British Museum is hella crowded and with a long security line, crammed with tourists and schoolkids and essentially it’s a zoo.  We find the Elgin Marbles, which continue to thrill me (although it was more lovely the last time when hardly anyone was in attendance and I had the hall to myself).  My husband is thoughtfully taking photographs.  Of each marble.  Every marble.  Multiple exposures. He is in heaven. Deep heavy sigh.  I open my Kindle app and start reading.

45 minutes later it’s time to meet up with my London cohort who buys us a coffee and tea and chats with us for just over an hour.  He is a lovely man and this is a pleasant interlude.  I’m really glad we took the time to meet him.

He heads back to the office and Les heads back to the Elgin Marbles to finish his photography project and I find a bathroom and a bench and resume my book.  So.  Crowded. Very. Warm.

I dig out a Kind bar to tide me over while waiting.  We regroup and discuss lunch options.  I’m hot and hungry, my knee is killing me, and I’m bored.  It’s a lethal combination.  We can’t agree on a lunch plan so head back to our hotel to collect luggage and begin the journey to Windsor. 

It’s tedious – we have one big suitcase, one little suitcase, one carry on bag, Les’ 30 pound camera backpack and my backpack.  We take the lift to the right level for our train, haul everything across the gap and stand, swaying while the car fills up and up…..exit and backtrack to find another lift, another train, exit at Paddington and trek a long, long way to the main station. 

We wait in line to buy tickets for Windsor and snag a couple of meat pies and some water for lunch.  We’re not sure which train is the ‘right’ train and then I think I see it. We can’t agree, there’s no signage, Les backtracks, we start hustling and the doors close in our faces. We are left on the platform with our luggage, our pasties and thoroughly bad tempers.

There is nowhere to sit while we wait for the next train.  I think there’s another option on a different platform but it is decided that we’ll wait for the train we know.  We finally board and are in a car with a  very young child who is playing a screaming game with mommy’s best friend.  Screaming game morphs into a running game. The child careens down the car, bounces off a stranger, and hurtles back. Repeatedly. Les and I are united in our dislike for the situation and the game in which the child slaps the friend, who laughs hysterically every time a blow lands.  We are old.  We are crotchety.  We are not amused.

The train drops us at a little station in Slough (pronounced sluff).  We are directed up a lift but then face a choice of tracks.  I direct Les to figure out which one is the correct track and wouldn’t you know that our train puffs off just as I get onto the platform.  Another 20-30 minute wait. It’s hot. We are drenched in sweat and thoroughly dehydrated. We have little to say to each other.

Finally we board a tiny little train that puffs into Windsor.  I think it’s like 90 degrees when we arrive around 5:15 and our program orientation starts at 5:30.  We haul the luggage out to High Street and finally make the correct turn to get to the hotel. 

We follow an extremely well-dressed couple inside – he’s wearing a splendid outfit that I think is a morning suit, and she’s decked out in a floral chiffon dress and fascinator.  They head for the bar and she says “I think I’ll spend a penny first” as she disappears into a loo.  First time I’ve heard that outside of a book and I’m delighted.

The main floor has multiple stairs and no elevator to the lobby so we bump and drag our luggage to a really hot reception area and receive our keys and directions to go down a flight of stairs, cross the parking lot to another building and our tour orientation is in there. This building also has stairs and no elevator but fire knee and I persist and we take the last two chairs.

We’re the last ones to arrive at the orientation and we droop in our chairs slurping water while introductions are made.  But at least we are here.  The group seems pretty nice (we might be the youngest people at the table) and there are 2 other librarians, 3 nurses, a semi-retired physician and some teachers.  Most people have gone on multiple Road Scholar journeys and know the drill.  We get “whisperers” and directions to dinner which starts in an hour. 

Upstairs, our bags have arrived, and we get settled.  The room is quite comfortable, and the bathroom is bigger than a postage stamp, which is nice.  The group dinner is fun – we are a congenial group – and the only confusion is who ordered what. If people don’t figure this out, then it’s going to be a long trip of “Did I order that? What did I order?”  My fish and chips are quite tasty and the Guinness goes down smoothly. 

After, most of us head outside for a brief guided walk to Eton.  This also serves as our “whisperer” training.  The sun is setting and the sky is golden.  There are very few people around as we wend our way down the hill and across the river.  Eton seems to be a nice campus with ancient buildings and our guide points out the school uniform and sporting goods shops that line the road.  It feels good to be walking.  Tomorrow we storm the castle!