In which we go to America

We left Devon on Friday morning to travel to Derby to visit the in-laws and from there we drove down to London to spend the weekend with Elder Son and Daughter-in-law.

They live quite close to Windsor so on Saturday we went to see the castle, and, do you know, they didn't have a tea room? A huge palace like that you think they could spare a room for thirsty trippers.

The royal standard was flying meaning the Queen was there - as she and Prince Philip are most weekends apparently. It was very tempting to knock on a door and say, 'Pregnant woman here. Any chance of a cup of tea for her - and her mother-in-law?' I didn't though. Instead we had to wait until we got outside and then pay extortionate prices for a Lady Bedfordshire cream tea (tea, scones, jam and cream otherwise known as a Devon cream tea in most places).

But on a sensible note the castle was very impressive and worth visiting. It's huge and

quite the grandest castle I've been in (limited though my experience is). It was only £16.50 entry fee (less for over 60s as I took great delight in pointing out to Husband) and that included headphones and audio guide. Well worth the ticket price.

I especially liked the way the guide commented that we'd colonised places and acquired items as opposed to fought battles with and stole treasures.

There was a huge fire at the castle in 1992 with a lot of damage. Fortunately most of the treasures in the affected areas had happened to have been removed during refurbishment so it was only the structure of the building that was damaged. But that was bad enough.

Depending on the extent of the damage the rooms were either restored to their former glory or changed and resurrected. It was a horrible thing to happen and cost a lot of money to repair but it wasn't the first time there'd been a fire at the castle or the first time that major changes had taken place. It wasn't in the way anyone would have wished for but, I suppose, it all contributes to the evolution of the castle that has survived 900 years by adapting.

We did enjoy our tea and scones though, in the Crooked House of Windsor (no reflection on the Royal family I'm almost sure.) The photo on the left is of a drawing on the wall inside the tea shop of the original building before it began to lean.

The street to the left as we look at the photo, lined on the other side by the blue wall, is Queen Charlotte Street, recorded as the shortest street in Britain, being 51'10" long.