Author: Sharron Burnett

Windsor Castle was built by William the Conqueror in 1070. At the time it was a defensive fort designed to guard the western routes to London. Over time it was added to and improved by later kings. Today it is the largest castle still in use in the world. It has been the site of Prince Phillip’s funeral and the wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle. Both Queen Elizabeth II and her husband Phillip are buried there in St. George’s chapel. It is also actively used for state dinners such as the one that President Trump recently attended. It is regularly the location for investitures as well.  

There are multiple ways of reaching Windsor Castle from London. There are trains that regularly travel there from either Paddington or Waterloo stations. Once reaching Windsor it is a five minute walk to the castle. Another common way of travelling there is through the services of a tour bus that includes the trip and a guide to explain the history and importance of the castle. It is also possible to use Uber to get there. Regardless of the method chosen it will take around thirty minutes to arrive. 

We ultimately decided to use Uber because the cost of a tour bus was more than we wished to pay and using the train would involve a great deal more walking than I wanted to do with my bad knees. We reached the castle quickly and with our prepaid tickets were almost instantly allowed inside where we received exceptional audio guides that fully explained everything that we saw. 

A few years back while doing searches for my ancestors I learned that I am one of the many people on this earth who has a relational connection with William the Conqueror. There is an irony in this because it is through my grandmother, Minnie Bell, who was an illiterate country girl who lived a long and happy but difficult life of economic want. The contrast between her reality and those of the kings and queens who once walked around Windsor Castle is beyond description and yet in many ways she was as regal as any royal person who ever lived. 

The main tower of the castle that was built by William the Conqueror is stunning. Sitting on a hill it is visible from a distance and dominates the area with its powerful aspect. It is easy to see how such a place would have discouraged anyone or any group with thoughts of attacking. It is remarkable that it has lasted almost a thousand years and seen more history than I can iterate in this essay. 

It is nestled in a beautiful place with vistas that belie the idea that this was once a fort. There is a gentleness about the land and its flora that is relaxing and uplifting. I found myself imagining royal personages walking along the pathways and enjoying the solace whenever times were not tinged with wars. 

We saw most of the rooms and the collections of paintings, furniture, and accouterments all of which were quite lovely. We walked through the great dining hall where leaders of the world have been entertained. We saw the royal apartments and lovely sitting rooms where I wanted to dally for a time. There were weapons, jewels, china, clothing and great works of art on display. It was indeed a treasure trove of history and artistry. 

Being someone who is mostly interested in people I got as much fun from listening to the comments from the other visitors as I did from hearing the prepared remarks about the castle. In particular there was a group of pre-school age children who were well behaved and filled with interest and questions that were sometimes profound and sometimes incredibly humorous. They added a delightful aspect to the whole affair commenting with innocent honesty that made me smile again and again. One little girl in particular was unafraid to voice her opinions. I laughed when she asked, “How many rooms does someone actually need?”

St. George’s church was wonderful in particular because I knew that so many recent events had occurred there. It was humbling to see the burial places of Queen Elizabeth II and her parents and husband. It was a somewhat simple place contrasting with the glory of other royal churches and cathedrals from the past. I found myself understanding why it had been a place of peace and refuge for the queen. There was a calmness there that made me want to linger.  

We ended the tour watching a royal guard march back and forth with his red coat and bear skin hat. He was entertaining in his adherence to tradition. Somehow he maintained his stance as visitors snapped photos and made comments. He represented a composite of history all in one place. 

After a stroll through the town of Windsor and a small lunch we were filled with wonder but ready to return to our home away from home in London. The Uber driver made his way through heavy afternoon traffic while we gawked at all of the sites along the way, learning a bit more about the neighborhoods surrounding the great city. it had been a glorious day and I felt grateful that I had been able to see the remarkable place that held stories and secrets that spanned a thousand years. I laughed at the silly idea that I might feel justified in calling it my ancestral home. After all I am a descendent of William even if that relationship is not particularly  close so perhaps a bit of all that splendor really is mine to cherish.

Tate Modern is one of London’s most exciting attractions, housing some of the most famous works of art from the twentieth and twenty first century. Best of all it is absolutely free save for special showings that require a small fee. Housed in a building that resembles a storage facility it is a wonder of human creativity and ingenuity where the art almost speaks to each person who views it. 

We went there on a rather cool morning when the employees were installing a new feature from people who and live and work among reindeer. While it was not yet complete it was easy to imagine the impact that the final version was going to be. It was actually exciting to watch the process of setting up a new installation. 

We were eager to see the Picasso pieces and accompanying movie that was currently part of a special presentation of the artist’s work. It was like taking a journey into Picasso’s mind and seeing his paintings up close made them come alive in ways that I had never imagined from photos. I began to fully realize his incredible talent and the depth of the messages that they conveyed. 

The rest of the museum was filled with everything from artistic quilts to classics from well known artists like Matisse and Andy Warhol. Much of the artwork was editorial, drawing attention to everything from the mistreatment of women to political killings. It was so stunning that I became emotionally involved with much of it in a way that explains the popularity of modern art. 

Of course walking on concrete floors for hours can be tiring but we learned that there was a coffee shop at the top of the building. Little did we expect the panoramic views of London that greeted us from the windows that surrounded the room. That sight was a work of art in itself that was like finding a hidden treasure in the middle of a big city. 

We spent much of the morning oohing and awing over the discoveries that we encountered in each room through which we passed. Sometimes it felt almost overwhelming to see so much in one place without huge crowds blocking views and rushing us along. We were able to take our time enjoying each piece and contemplating our feelings about what we saw. 

Eventually we headed for the second phase of the day which was going to Borough market, one of the many outdoor gatherings of vendors that are quite popular in London. Borough Market is much like the farmer’s market that we have in Houston. It features fruit, vegetables, meat, cheese, plants and cooking gear along with several restaurants and food stands. 

It was filled with people and products to the point of almost being overwhelming until we ultimately settled into the flow of things. There was so much that I would have like to purchase but most of it would not have travelled well back to my hometown so I could only browse each stall in the wonder of it all. 

Of course seeing so much food made us hungry so we found an indoor restaurant with seats and bathrooms and all the amenities that we needed. We started with a nice glass of wine and followed with traditional fish and chips. Luckily we had decided to split an order because the servings were quite generous, so much so that no one person would have been able to consume the portions in one sitting and we had no way to take a to go box back to the hotel. 

Feeling a bit adventurous we followed our main portion with bread pudding that was to die for. We also had a lovely chat with our waiter who was from Slovenia, not to be confused with Slovakia. He was a friendly soul who got excited when he learned we were from Texas. There is definitely a mystique about Texas that leads to an of imaginary western world that mostly does not exist. Nonetheless we tended to just roll along with the picture that the young man carried in his head. 

I wanted to have some kind of memento from the market because it had been so much fun. I found a cooking store that featured Borough Market tea towels and decided that there was nothing more useful and more appropriate to remind me of our wonderful day.

I found myself thinking about the artistry of human innovation that expresses itself in so many ways. We use words, colors, cloth, wood, plants, and even the food that we eat to demonstrate our creativity. I could not help but think about Shakespeare boasting, “What a piece of work is man,” as I reflected in all that I had seen in just a few hours of a day.

We had done a great deal of walking, closing the circles on our watches several times so we were ready to return to the comfort of our hotel. A quick trip around the corner led us to the Tube and a comfortable ride home, at least that is how we had already begun to refer to our hotel. London was not disappointing us in any way.

Travel is as much about meeting new people and hearing new points of view as seeing sights. It is about gaining a deeper understanding of the history of the world and learning how humans adjust and adapt to the challenges in their lives. We may speak many different languages and have many different beliefs about the best way to live but when all is said and done our hearts are much more alike than we often seem to notice. Visiting far away places provides a more generous outlook on life because it helps us to realize how wonderful all of us are as we strive to live in meaningful ways. 

I suppose that I have an affinity for Great Britain because so many of my ancestors came from there. Somehow I always feel comfortable among the citizens when I visit the locations where my people once lived. As I visit one place after another I get a better feel for the journey of individuals whose life choices led inexorably to my own. I feel a kinship with the people that I encounter because when I speak with them I realize that they are more like me than different from me in their hopes and dreams for themselves and their families. 

I think of a young barista and waitress who greeted me and my husband with a warm smile each morning when we enjoyed breakfast in the cafe where she worked. Her name is Maria and she brightened our mornings with her care and concern for our needs. At least for me her presence each day was more vital than the food and drink that she brought us, more wonderful than the castles that we visited.

I enjoyed the Uber drivers who chatted with us as they relieved my need for walking as much as I would have normally done given that my knees are more than ready for replacement. They were as delightful as the sites to which they delivered us. There was the young man from Ethiopia who was curious about the United States and its current situation. He knew more about the Constitution and our laws than many Americans. This humble driver was well schooled in history and political science, speaking with a command of English that was remarkable given that he has not been in London all that long. I was almost sad to leave the car upon reaching our destination because our discussion had been so interesting. 

There were the people on the streets, in the shops and on the tube who treated me like a queen. Even on the most crowded days they politely insisted that I take their seats. They called me “Mum” or “Madame” and smiled when I accepted their kindness. I did not ever feel alone or ignored the entire time that I was away from home. 

On a train to Edinburgh I sat across from a young man who was traveling to Glasgow to spend the weekend hiking with his girlfriend. He chatted all the way alerting us to the loveliest views from the train and telling us how best to enjoy our short trip to Scotland. He was a delightful tour guide and historian as he explained what we were seeing as the train barreled through the countryside. He was ever polite and enthusiastic about helping us, not disappointed that his seat was across from two old people.

On the same train we heard a young woman from mainland China speaking impeccable English and mentioning her love of learning many different languages. She patiently listened to a stranger who never stopped talking about the exploits of his life. The two of them could not have been more different and yet by the end of the trip the bond that they had created was ever so real. 

On our way to visit the Dickens Museum we enjoyed a driver who was from Nigeria. He broached the topic of world events of the moment and we happily took the bait. It felt as though we were in the presence of a brilliant professor. His knowledge was boundless and he had a knack for expressing his views and allowing us to differ from him that was glorious. That ride was as wonderful as the museum that we would later visit. 

There were two Palestinian protests in Trafalgar Square when we were in London. Since our hotel was only half a block away from the proceedings we saw the mothers and grandmothers and children who earnestly accompanied the men to the rally. There were ministers and people who have never themselves been to Palestine. All of them bore looks of worry and hardship. I could feel the pain that they were feeling even though none of them spoke to us. I felt humbled by them in an unexplainable way. 

We met a mother and son from New Zealand when we went to see The Phantom of the Opera. They invited us to visit their homeland, describing its beauty and its people with such pride and joy.

We saw the diversity of the world in the microcosm of London and it was glorious. We smiled when the people embraced us even as they seemed worried about all of us in America. They all expressed the hope that we will get over our divisions and become the exemplar of freedom that they so want us to be. It was remarkable to be able to discuss our views and who we are without the least bit of worry that we might somehow be misjudged or accused of being hateful. The people assumed that it was okay for each of us to be different in our languages, backgrounds and viewpoints. They told us that no nation or time has ever been perfect and no one way of doing things is a good fit for everyone. 

We too often create a mindset that puts us in competition with each other rather than acknowledging that people are people everywhere. They have goals and dreams. They live and love. Our trip reminded us that when all is said and done we humans are all in this together and always have been. When we celebrate our sameness we are much more likely to get along. 

When I was in high school I was captivated by the enlightenment that my English teacher provided our class. We not only parsed and diagramed sentences but we also explored literature and learned about music and art. Our teacher filled the classroom with newspaper articles and introduced us to periodicals like The Atlantic, The New York Times, and The New Yorker. He planned field trips to the theater and the local art museum. He made sure that we learned how to appreciate music and understood how to present ourselves in different settings. His goal was to make us citizens of the world. 

I think of my English teacher whenever I travel. I do things that I believe he would have done if he had accompanied me and my husband. I smile when I remember how he wove all of art and history together to help us to understand humanity and the world around us. So it was with his influence in the back of my mind that I set out on a return trip to London, England, a place where I always feel at home. 

The last time I traveled across the pond I found a great deal on an economy seat. Sadly the savings resulted in a torturous journey. The seats were small and cramped with so little legroom that I felt as though me knees were touching my chin. The two ladies behind us talked the whole night through so any idea of sleeping for a time became impossible. I just watched movie after movie hoping that they would eventually grow weary, turn off the lights and abandon their conversation but that was not to happen so I arrived in London exhausted before I had even begun my explorations

This time around we invested in premium economy seats and the upgrade in comfort was incredible. Our seats themselves were noticeably wider and we had enough leg room to stretch our legs. The food was excellent and actually served on real plates with napkins and silverware. The people in the area were quiet and respectful of each other. When the lights dimmed we all rested peacefully until the morning when a delicious breakfast was served. 

We arrived at Heathrow Airport in the early afternoon and I was bouncing with energy which was fortunate since much of our time was spent walking to reach the Heathrow Express that would take us to Paddington Station. My gimpy knees threatened to halt the trip then and there but I was determined to ignore them no matter how much they screamed at me. Before long we were on our way on a train so crowded that we had to stand much of the way holding tightly to our luggage that kept threatening to roll away. Before long a very polite young man insisted that I take his seat. I was reluctant but his wife motioned me over with a welcoming smile making the rest of the journey wonderful as I anticipated the fun that was to come. 

We had reservations at the Grand Hotel at Trafalgar Square which proved to be an exceptional location for launching our daily adventures. Our room was spacious and incredibly quiet at all times of day. We had a great view of Northumberland Street and were only half a block away from Trafalgar Square. It was a short walk to either Charring Cross or Embankment stations so transportation was not a problem. For our first foray we wanted to investigate the trains that might take us to Windsor Castle so we headed to Waterloo Station which was literally abuzz with passengers rushing here and there. We felt a bit lost in all of the hubbub mostly because we were still a bit jet lagged from our plane trip. We eased our anxieties with a bit to eat and went back to the hotel to rest up for our upcoming visit to the Royal Observatory and The National Naval Museum in Greenwich. 

After a great night’s sleep we were ready to begin our vacation in earnest but first it was time for breakfast so we wandered to the Caffe Concerto which was located next door to the hotel. It was a delightful place with a staff that exuded cheerfulness. Of course we agreed that we had to try the full English breakfast that included two fried eggs, sausage, bacon, beans, a stewed tomato, hash browns, mushrooms and toast. I topped my meal off with cranberry juice and English breakfast tea and immediately knew that this place would be our first stop each morning for the rest of the trip. 

The ride to Greenwich took a while. It is far south of the city of London along the Thames River. The Royal Observatory there is the site of the Prime Meridian, the reference line for longitude that divides the earth into the Eastern and Western hemispheres We placed our feet on either side of the line so that we might brag that we had been in two hemispheres at the same time, then we went inside to learn more about the work done by the many astronomers who had worked to understand the heavens. Among the men who resided there was Edmond Halley for whom a comet would be named.

Inside the museum was a section devoted to showing how important it had been to develop a seaworthy clock that would not be affected by the swaying of ships. Using the heavens and correct time sailors needed to be able to navigate correctly but it would literally be decades before a successful clock was invented by John Harrison. Each of his attempts to create a reliable marine chronometer is on display and his ingenuity was remarkable to see.

Our next stop was just down a pathway to the National Navel Museum, a delightful place filled with stories of sailors and their enormous impact on the economy and safety of the British Isles. It was literally a treasure trove of naval history including a huge map of the oceans and an entire section devoted to Horatio Nelson whose death in the Battle of Trafalgar would be memorialized with great honor. 

Our final Greenwich destination was the Cutty Sark, once the fastest ship in the world. It had been used by the East India Company to bring tea from China to Britain, a part of history tinged with greed and war and sometimes questionable tactics. The displays were open and honest about the good, bad and ugly of what happened on those trips to China. It was sobering imagining life aboard the ship whose sole purpose was to grab the tea and get back as quickly as possible. 

The day had been full and enlightening and we were rather tired once we were back at the hotel but we had not eaten since breakfast so it was time for a small repast. For dinner we settled on Italian food mostly because there was a restaurant just across the street. The food was great and the wine helped us to chill just a bit before a strolling down Whitehall Street to a shop where I purchased some tea which seemed fitting given the history we had learned on our first full day in London. So much more was to come and I found myself wondering what book my English teacher might suggest that I read to learn more about the British adventures at sea. I’m sure he would have had some ideas and might even suggest that we pair it with a bit of Gilbert and Sullivan and HMS Pinafore. I smiled as a realized that I had indeed become a citizen of the world all due to his enormous influence.

If I had to think of a time in my life when I felt very comfortable it would have to be the nineteen nineties. By then my children had both graduated from college, married and were doing well. I had many incredible friendships with individuals and couples who enriched my life with their very presence. I had earned a Master’s degree by then and was very comfortable in my career. I liked the movies and the music and the wonderful vacations that we took. My mother was retired and enjoying life and doing better with her mental illness than ever before. It felt as though all of the hard work that my husband and I had done had fallen into place. We totally lived with the mantra that life is good. 

I went into the new century filled with so many hopes and dreams little knowing the toll that ensuing events would take on our family. I suppose we all have the bad habit of thinking that our lives will continue to rock along without any difficulties when times are good. I had lived through so many chaotic moments and I somehow felt entitled to a quiet time when roses seemed to be blooming all around me. Then came 9/11 and its horror. I can still call up the intense emotions and fear that I felt on that day. I worried that life as I presently knew it was going to drastically change, but somehow as Americans we found the fortitude to work together in honor of those who had lost their lives. Our democracy held and it felt as though we had defeated a grave danger. 

I worried about the wars that came from that moment in Afghanistan and Iraq. I felt uncertain about how all of that would eventually play out. A kind of national anxiety that I had not felt since the nineteen sixties began to create worries for me as well. Nonetheless, I had a strong family and so many wonderful friends with whom to walk through those difficult times and so life went on without world events affecting me too much.

About the time of the fall of Iraq the world began to shift under my feet. My mother-in-law had a stroke and died after days in a coma. My father-in-law became tied up in knots and was soon in the hospital having emergency surgery from which it seemed that he would be unable to survive. Somehow he made it, but my mother began to have some of the worst symptoms of her bipolar disorder that she had ever experienced. I was back in the saddle of caring for people in crisis once again but still enjoying that births of my grandchildren. They became my saviors with their innocence and joy. Being with them kept me from becoming too wrapped up in my troubles. 

It seemed as though one horrific event after another came to rock the world. Hurricane Katrina destroyed the city of New Orleans and my school took in more students from there than any other in the United States. Our classrooms were crowded and not all of the parents liked that we had taken in the suffering students. For me it was a sign that prejudices were growing again in my country. I had already seen much of that for Muslims, but now it was people from a neighboring state who were viewed with fear.

At the same time my dear friend, Pat, was diagnosed with cancer and would spend the better part of a year being treated at M.D. Anderson Hospital. My center was holding even as things began to fall apart. I was and still am a control freak and I was unable to repair all of the damage that I witnessed around me. 

Pat recovered and my mother found a wonderful doctor who seemed to help her in miraculous ways, but my friends Egon and Marita were not doing well. If it was not one thing it was another. Nothing seemed certain and there was a kind of chill in America that I had only seen during the Vietnam War. 

Life swirled around me. Egon died and his wife ended up in the hospital with her destiny uncertain. My grandchildren were still at the center of my world and my happiness as I embarked on a new job at KIPP Houston High School. There I would encounter “my people” in both my fellow employees and my students. I had never before felt so strongly that I was in the right place at the right time. It was good that work had become an anchor because my friend, Pat, would die and I would never quite get over losing her.

Work and my grandchildren became the steadying forces in my life. I enjoyed the years of Barack Obama’s presidency. Somehow I began to feel that everything was going to turn out all right even as I had to become accustomed to losing more and more important people who had kept me steady. First came Marita, then our friend Bill and, tragically, my mother. Then I retired and felt ready for a quiet life that seemed rather certain, Sometimes though the world has a strange sense of humor and the craziness only got worse. 

Our nation has endured so many tests and somehow we have always emerged from them but the present time seems more dire than ever. We managed to come out of the worldwide pandemic mostly intact but too many had died and our confidence was in tatters. Somehow we had become a divided nation. Our national tone has become uglier than anything I have ever seen in all of my almost seventy seven years on this planet. I don’t think I have ever worried this much about my beautiful United States of America. I can’t even seem to explain to those who think differently from me how horrific our current situation is. I long for the people that I have lost. I want allies who will talk to me and reassure me. I know that they are around but we have grown so wary of each other that many of them are afraid to express how they feel. Even families are being torn apart. 

My children and grandchildren remain at the center of my tiny universe along with God. I hope that we will be able to endure the current crisis and come out better than before. I still have great faith in my nation but I worry that I won’t see its reconstruction before my time to leave has come. I want the best of what we have the potential to be for every person who lives in America. I wants us to understand that together we truly become the shining city on the hill. Apart we will gain less than half of the glory that we might find together. I am keeping the faith that the goodness in us will triumph before it becomes too late. I’ll be at the No Kings protest tomorrow in the hopes that my feeble efforts to save my beloved United States of America will be echoed a million times over across the globe. I see that this is no time to hide away and rest. I will limp on my gimpy knees to demonstrate my love for country and for all people for however long it takes to set things right once again.