Let it snow!

Ok, so apologies for the total slackness on the whole blog front. I have been super busy - class plus friends plus so many things to do in London equals no time for blog! Where does the time go? I mean, heck, its almost March, and at the end of March I finish class and then, I start my dissertation, and then I'm pretty sure it will be September before I know it. INSANITY! However, I will try and get back into the swing of this. Let's not hold our breath.

So, first, some snow photos! Even though this was a little ago, its still pretty impressive. In Dunedin, it snowed sometimes but it was kind of rubbish - sleety and hard, and it never settled. But here, it was floaty and soft, and it was thick and heavy and stayed around for ages! Amazing! So here, are some gratuitous snow photos:

Not to rain on anyones' dream of what living in a snowy wonderland is like, but it gets old fast. Especially when the snow doesn't melt but freezes overnight, turning the usually carefree trip to the tube into some sort of insane death-defying feat. There were a couple of very near misses. Anyway, not to worry about that anymore, because, in a few short weeks, London has pulled itself together, and given us this:

Blossoms and blue sky.



"I'm just going to write because I cannot help it."

So, despite the fact that the sun now sets at 5pm rather than 4.30pm (whoot!), it is getting colder in London. And when I say cold, I mean COLD. Like being slapped in the face by an icicle. But all those years in Dunedin have taught me not just to be a brilliant intellectual, but also to be tough and handle the jandal. Also, there are some benefits to cold weather, like having a perfect excuse to drink hot chocolates and boys in coats.

Winter also makes travel very cheap, which is why I took the oppourtunity to have a weekend off and travel to Haworth, just out of Leeds. What's so special about Haworth, you may be wondering. Well, let me end the suspense for you, Haworth is the site where the most well known literary family in the world lived - thats right, its the Bronte sisters, Charlotte, Emily and Anne! Admittedly, I did have to wade through cafes called "Eyres and Graces" (you can't even make this stuff up), but it was well worth it to see the place which inspired such great writing. And I'm deadly serious about how good they were - if you haven't read any of their books, you need to stop what you are doing RIGHT NOW, go and get a copy and start reading. I recommend Wuthering Heights (love that destroys everything it touches - what's not to love).

Haworth Main Street.

Now that you have read the books, you will understand why visiting where the Brontes lived is so important - the surronding landscape is like another character in the books. Especially Wuthering Heights. But we will come back to that later, first a little back story. Every story has a beginning, and its pretty safe to say that the story of the Bronte sisters begins with their father, Patrick. Patrick was born in Ireland, the eldest member of a large family. He was a pretty smart cookie - by the time he was 17, he was an assistant teacher at the local school, and then managed to secure a place at Cambridge. He became a minister, fell in love and got married. But he never forgot the benefits that education gave him, and dedicated his life to making education accessible to those who wouldn't ordinarily get the oppourtunity. He was backed in this enterprise by none other than William Wilberforce, leader of the abolitionist movement. Patrick was, in his own quiet way, quite a hero - dedicating his life to making education avaliable to the children who worked in the local mills.

Haworth Parsonage.

The woman that Patrick married was named Maria, and together they moved to Haworth and had six children: Maria, Elizabeth, Charlotte, Emily, Branwell and Anne. They were happy for time, but then the worst happened - Maria (the mother) died, possibly of cancer. Patrick was devasted, but in order to get someone to come and look after his children, he proposed to two of his old friends. Both politely declined. So Maria's sister came to Haworth to look after the family, and she stayed for the rest of their lives. However, despite the presence of their aunt, Patrick decided that the four eldest girls should be sent to boarding school to get a proper education. If you've read Jane Eyre, you can see where this is going - Maria and Elizabeth got sick, probably of TB or typhoid, and Patrick immediately had them all brought home. But it was too late - the girls died soon after.

Walking up to the moors.

After this, the four remaining children became very close - they made up their own imaginary worlds, each with their own languages and histories. As they grew older, they realised that they would have to earn a living, and decided to follow in their father's footsteps and open a school. But first, they had to get the necessary accomplishments. And they needed more money. So, Charlotte and Emily went to Brussels to learn French and to work in a girls' finishing school. Emily didn't like it at all, and left soon after, but for Charlotte, it was a defining time in her life. It was here that she fell in love with a married professor, the husband of the woman who ran the school. My tour guide, John, and I (I was the only one on the tour, but thats totally not weird) had a detailed dicussion about this, and decided that falling in love with someone totally unobtainable is something that happens to everyone, but it never turns out well. And it wasn't any different in Charlotte's case - the wife found out and Charlotte had to return to England. However,  it did result in Charlotte's lesser known book, The Professor.

Haworth Church.

In the meantime, Anne had managed to become a governess. The first house she lived in she hated it and was soon dismissed because she couldn't control the children. However, the second house was a much better and Anne really enjoyed teaching the children there. But then, her brother had to come along and spoil it - Anne managed to get her brother Branwell as job as a tutor to the son of the family, but then Branwell had an affair with the wife of the household (named Mrs Robinson, no joke) and got them both fired.

Bronte Seat - apparently where Charlotte used to sit and think up story ideas.

So, now all the girls were at home, and they began writing in earnest. Soon, they had three books ready - Jane Eyre (Charlotte), Wuthering Heights (Emily) and Agnes Grey (Anne). After a little difficulty, the books were published under gender-neutral pseudonyms - Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell. The books created a sensation in the literary world, the books were beautiful, emotional, passionate and by unknown authors. Some even suspected that they were all by the same person, and very few suspected they were written by women.

This is supposedly the house which inspired Wuthering Heights - trust me, it fits the isolated farm picture perfectly.

However, their success was soon tinged with sadness - Emily got TB and died. Then Branwell, who had become an alcoholic and opium addict and had to be watched day and night to ensure he didn't burn the house down, also died. Then Anne also got sick, Charlotte took her to the seaside at Scarbourgh in the hopes that her health would improve but Anne never returned to Haworth. Charlotte married her father's curate and for a while, was the toast of the London literary scene. But then she too died during pregnancy.

The memorial plaque for the Brontes in the Haworth Church.

If you've have noticed a reoccurring theme of death here, then congratulations, you have stumbled onto the flaw of Haworth. For some reason, the residents of Haworth decided to build their cemetery on the top of the hill, meaning that the water that they were drinking from the stream at the bottom of the hill was tainted with run-off from the cemetery. That, combined with the rudimentary sewage systems of the day, meant that 45% of the children of Haworth didn't survived beyond the age of 5. So, pretty much, the Brontes died from drinking dead people water. Grossly tragic.

Despite this tragic end, their books have meant that their legacy has remained. The books are so ubiquitous that when I walked to the old farm that inspired Wuthering Heights (see photo above), all I could think of was that 'amazing' song by Kate Bush. And the number of movie adaptions is just ridiculous. But their fame is well deserved, anyone who writes things like: "If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn into a mighty stranger" should live forever.

Read the books, go to Haworth.

"I told you I was trouble, you know that I'm no good"

Ok team, here's the full scoop on why you have not been entertained by my exciting expeditions for over a MONTH now: I don't want to bore you. This is in part because for the most part my life consists of going to the library, studying, having lunch, doing more study and then coming home  - the blog equivalent of getting a Coke Zero AGAIN! The other part is that some of the places that I have been going are no photography areas (like the National Portrait Gallery), and I don't want to waste such a visual medium on a post with no photos. That would be insanity! However, now I have finally got my act together and can therefore present you with THE FIRST BLOG POST OF 2012!

Seeing as this is the new year, I think we should start it off with something that represents life and excitement and awesomeness. Yes, that's right, its CAMDEN TOWN!

Unfortunately, my photos of Camden are pretty rubbish because I've never been on an amazing day (they are pretty rare in London). But in my defence, I don't think you could actually get an understanding of the awesomeness of Camden until go there. Kind of like trying to describe the ocean to someone who has never seen the colour blue. Anyway, you will just have to use my rubbish photos as a platform for your wildest imaginings!

I bet, by now, you are starting to wonder about my overuse of superlatives in describing Camden, but this is by no means an exaggeration. And I've only been there to go to the market. Which is amazing. Camden Market pretty much has everything you could ever wish to buy - new clothes, vintage clothes, antique mirrors, handmade ceramic jewellery, second-hand books, antique suitcases. Last time I was there I brought some purple heart-shaped sunglasses (which I'm wearing right now, because all the cool kids are wearing sunglasses inside on a Thursday night) and a pack of canasta cards. Seriously, there is even a guy that sells bird calls on CD.

Look at all the stalls!

Camden Market also has some of the best food stalls that I have ever seen. There is one stall that has cake pops, which if you haven't heard of before, I have just changed your life forever. Trust me, I wouldn't joke about something as serious as cake pops. There are also heaps of places where you can buy savoury food - everything from Chinese to Mexican. Just watch out for the ladies at some of the Chinese food stalls - they are always offering samples and exhorting you to "Come Try, Come Try", but as soon as you get within reaching distance of that sample, it disappears and you find yourself buying five pounds of fired rice. A trick for younger players there.

Some people are pretty anxious about eating food off a stall, but I don't think you should be. You can actually see the food being cooked in front of you, its clearly hot and fresh, and consequently, there is no way that bacteria have been using your burrito as a local teen hangout. Trust me, there is nothing better than a steak sandwich from Camden Market, followed up by a cake pop and a caramel and lime hot chocolate (the hot chocolate is a real thing, I had one last week and it was AH-MAZING).

Again, sorry for the rubbish photography, but for future reference, the cake pop stall is sort of in the middle right.

And, right outside the market is the canal with a lock, where you can watch boats going up and down and dream about how cool it would be to live on a houseboat, travelling the country with your faithful hound. Seriously, when I was there, there were two boats in the lock at the same time, one going up and one going down, and it was drawing a substantial crowd.

See, a substantial crowd!

Finally, we can't discuss Camden without mentioning the late, great Amy Winehouse. Whatever you think about her personal life, she was superbly, undeniably, amazingly talented. She pretty much epitomises Camden - the whole idea of being yourself, and doing what you love. Lots of people do what they think is expected of them and hide their true selves, while some, rare people are brave enough to be themselves and fulfil their hidden potential (Russell Brand puts this so much better than I ever could). And that's what makes Camden so cool, its a place where all sorts of different people can come and be themselves - seriously, the last time I was in Camden, I saw some Girl Guide leaders, older women, in amongst the teenage goths, and they were having a great time!!

So, get dressed up in your best Amy Winehouse gear, and get down to Camden to watch the lock and eat cake pops! You'll love it, I guarantee it!

"No novelists anywhere any good except me. P.G. Wodehouse and Tolstoy not bad. Not good, but not bad"

Some days are just bad days. There's not enough hot water for your shower, the milk that you have to use is on the wrong side of the use by date, its raining and your shoes get wet, there are no seats on the Tube, you're late, you have to have a ham sandwich for lunch AGAIN, you don't have change for chocolate, you stare at and re-write the same five sentences for eight hours, one of your limbs gets caught in the closing Tube door, that amazing thing you were going to have for dinner has mysteriously disappeared, and then you can't sleep. We all have days like this. What matters is that you know what to do when one springs upon you.

Do not, I repeat, DO NOT do any of the following: listen to Neil Young's Oh Lonesome Me or Cat Power's Hate; watch romantic comedies (you think its going to make you better but then you're watching a ridiculous story about an beautiful girl who still can't get a boyfriend and then she gets one and amazingly all her life problems are solved! - Katherine Heigl, I'm looking at you) or any movie where an lovable animal dies; drink gin; or eat too much chocolate (you WILL get the chocolate guilts).

My infallible list of bad day busters includes: Supernatural bloopers (I love those boys! So hot, so funny!); Fly My Pretties (at the moment, its the Live at Bats album but anything by these guys is pure gold); car dancing; or, listening to awesome songs like this or this (I love the live versions of these - yes, that is Bjork and Bowie.). But my top-notch, never fail bad day cure is P. G. Wodehouse. Whenever I travel, I always take a copy of one of his books with me to combat any airport stress. I even have his books on tape to listen to when I can't sleep, and I'm not ashamed to admit it!

If you have never heard of P. G. Wodehouse, never fear! I have especially gone on the P. G. Wodehouse walk in order to gather information to educate you!

OMG his actual house!!!

Probably the first thing you need to know about P. G. (as we shall now call him), is that his last name is pronounced 'Wood-house', even though its spelt 'Wode-house'. He was born out in Hong Kong, where his father worked as a judge, but was educated in England. He wanted to go to university, but his older brother had already gone and there wasn't enough money for P. G. to go as well. So, he got a job at the Hong Kong and Shanghai Savings Bank, with the hope of getting a post overseas. However, while he was working there, he had a couple of stories published in a newspaper and he decided to become a writer. He did some more short stories, then a novel and he was away!

This is the block of flats where Bertie Wooster lived!!!

P. G. was a pretty prolific writer with almost 100 novels and short stories. His stories generally fall into a couple of groups:

 - Jeeves and Wooster

 - Blandings Castle

 - Psmith (the P is silent "as in pshrimp")

 - Mr Mulliner

 - Urkridge

All the stories follow a similar pattern - the hero is in some kind of trouble, usually either romantic or financial, and he gets deeper and deeper into that trouble until a he is rescued by a wise elder. All the worthy heroes are not too bright, reasonably good looking, upper class and bad with money. The heroines are usually the jolly good sort, with names like Jane, Angela or Nobby (short for Zenobia). The other female characters are usually aggravating girls to steer clear of (Florence, Madeline and Honoria), or the aunts (Julia, Constance, Hermione or Agatha). And then there are the wise elders: Jeeves, Lord Ickenham and Galahad Threepwood.

Aunt Dahlia's town house!!!

What develops is a beautifully constructed farce, punctuated by some of the funniest phrases that you will ever read. Some of my favourites include:

 "My Aunt Agatha, for instance, is tall and thin and looks rather like a vulture in the Gobi desert, while Aunt Dahila is short and solid, like a scrum half in the game of Rugby football".

"'He is ambitious. It won't be long,' said  the girl, 'before Wilberforce suddenly rises in the world'.
She never spoke a trurer word. At this moment, up he came from behind the settee like a leaping salmon".

 "I remember walking one day in Grosvenor Square with my aunt Brenda and her pug dog Jabberwocky, and a policeman came up and said the latter ought to be wearing a muzzle. My aunt made no verbal reply. She merely whipped a lorgnette from its holster and looked at the man, who gave one choking gasp and fell back against the railings, without a mark on him but with an awful look of horror in his staring eyes, as if he'd seen some dreadful sight. A doctor was sent for, and they managed to bring him around, but he was never the same again. He had to leave the force, and eventually drifted into the grocery business".

Grosvenor Square - the site of the above quoted event!

There was just one black spot in P.G.’s life. Before the Second World War, P.G. had been living in Northern France, and when the Nazis invaded, he was placed in an internment camp, along with other resident aliens under the age of 65. During his time at the internment camp, he was asked to broadcast some humorous show on Radio Berlin, which he did. His intention was to provide some comedic relief for those living in internment camps at the time. Also, he had no knowledge about Nazi atrocities or the bombing of London at the time. But obviously, his good intentions backfired. He was investigated by British Intelligence and he was openly accused in the British press of having right-wing sympathies. It is highly doubtful that this was the case; his character Roderick Spode, leader of the Black Shorts (modelled on Oswald Mosley, leader of the Fascist group the Black Shirts) would convince most people of this. After the war, P.G. lived in America and never returned to England. But much later his contribution to British literature was recognised, and he was knighted at the age of 92.

The only pub in the Park Lane area, and the inspiration for the Junior Ganymede, the club that Jeeves belongs to!!

All in all, I pretty much love P.G. He's funny and entertaining, with a great way with words. If you haven't read him, you should go out and do so. Or, at the very least, watch some of the Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie version of Jeeves and Wooster - guaranteed to make your day better!

Born 2 Rule

We have arrived at the third and final post on Hampton Court - the Georgian part. Everywhere you go, the Georgians are there, with Christopher Wren and neo-Classical Architecture. In fact, Christopher Wren actually designed the Georgian Wing of the palace, which pretty much shows that you can't throw a brick in London without hitting a Christopher Wren building. The best thing about the Georgian wing is that it looks out over the gardens and grounds that surround the palace. The gardens are beautiful, but in that really formal, structured kind of way that I don't really understand - what's the point of nature if its not natural?

Look at those perfectly conical trees.

 

Interestingly enough, when the South Wing was added, some of the Tudor parts were left and incorporated into the new addition.  The best bit is this amazing room known as the Wolsey Closet, it has these beautiful patterned ceilings, which have Wolsey's iconography like the ornate 'W', and scenes from the Passion of  Christ are painted around the walls. A lot of people have laboured under the misapprehension that this room was Wolsey's private chapel, because of the religious nature of the scenes on the wall, but it is more likely that it was just a fancy meeting room, designed to impress the foreign visitors that Wolsey entertained.

The room in the photo above is another interesting one - its the bedroom of the king and queen, and, through a system of ropes and pulleys, the door can be locked by someone sitting in the bed. How cool is that - don't want to get your feet cold walking across the room to unlock the door, no problem! Interesting side-note: royal bedrooms are easily identifiable because they all lock from the inside. This is for obvious reasons - the king and queen needed a place to sleep that was both private and safe.

The dome of the chapel in the Georgian wing.

But lets not beat about the bush anymore, we all know what this post is really about - the Georgian kings and how awful they were. From George I and his embarrassingly bad grasp on the English language, to George IV and the terrible relationship he had with his wife Caroline, the first four Georges were not the most pleasant of people. In particular, there were continuous tensions between father and son, with the next generation never learning from the mistakes of the previous. And of course, poor old George the third, who was a few sandwiches short of a picnic, as well as being the king who lost the American colonies. This situation has been no better summarised that in this video, which is probably the best thing I have ever seen! If you don't love it, I'm not sure we can be friends any more...

I think that is a high point on which to end, sorry about the shortness of this post - the Georgian part was last on my list to see and I had to almost run through to see it all before they locked the gates for the night!

"William and Mary, by the Grace of God, King and Queen of England, France and Ireland, Defenders of the Faith, etc."

Ok, so here I am, being assaulted by ladybugs, but still powering through to bring you another post! I'm serious about the ladybugs - they are way bigger than the ones at home, and are trying to hibernate in my room, but every so often, they just leapt out at you from nowhere, scaring the proverbial out of me. And they get everywhere - I found one in my bag on the Tube yesterday.

But enough about my ladybug issue, and on with more exciting stories of Hampton Court (and show you more photos)! This part is about William III and Mary II. I first heard about them when I was a Kensington Palace and thought they were pretty interesting - they were the only diarchy in British history. Usually there is a monarchy (one ruler, either a King with a queen, or a Queen with a Prince Regent), but William was a Prince of Orange in his own right, while Mary was Queen of England, so they ruled jointly.

It worked out pretty well for them, 'cause Mary, despite being smart, beautiful and friendly, wasn't really the powerful, dynamic type of ruler. However, she did have to take the reins when William was away at war, which was A LOT. If there was one thing William loved above anything else, it was doing to war, and he did it for up to 6 to 9 months of the year, usually against the French. Even when he got home, he slept on a camp bed in one of the private rooms. He wasn't actually that good at it, and he made very little progress against the French. He also wasted a fair amount of money at the same time.

Here is William, bravely riding out to war - sorry about the bad photo quality!

Apart from this inclination towards warfare, William had one or two other faults. Mainly he disliked appearing in public - at the time, it was expected that the king and queen would go about their daily business in the public eye: the public could come and watch the king receive guest, eat and even get ready for bed. A little strange, but its actually a cunning public relations scheme. However, William didn't do this very often, and this made him unpopular with the public. In fact, William and Mary's reign was the beginning of the end for public court rituals.

ONE of the public throne rooms.

There were also rumours floating around that William liked the camaraderie of war a little more than anyone with a wife should, if you get my drift. William had a very close friend, Hans, who had nursed William through scarlet fever when he was young. William had never forgotten this, and Hans was given appropriate honours at court. But later on, William found another favourite, an exceptionally beautiful and slightly effeminate young man called Arnold. William consequently forgot his best friend Hans, and focus on Arnold, which is when things took a turn for the scandalous! Hans took offence at this, as you would after you saved someones life and then they ditched you for someone prettier, and so he left court and never spoke to William again.

William's private rooms, where the men would hang out.

These rumours only served to further decrease William's popularity, and after Mary died of smallpox, it only dropped more and more. William had truly loved his wife, and when she died, he took to eating and drinking a little more than was good for him. He died of pneumonia, caused by a broken collarbone after his horse threw him after it tripped on a molehill.

However, in my opinion, William's greatest mistake was wanting to completely demolish Hampton Court, and replace it with a whole new palace. I mean, SERIOUSLY?! Hampton Court is so beautiful, I don't know how anyone could want to get rid of it. Thankfully, there wasn't enough money to raze the palace and build a new one, so they just added Baroque addition. Just on the side, casual-like:

Baroque columns in front of the famous Hampton Court red brick chimneys. Just slapped on to the front there.

Anyway, I think that's enough royal scandal for now. Tune in same time next week for the final instalment in our Hampton Court series! Now just let me find that stupid ladybug...

I'm Henry the 8th, I am, I am!

Ok, so apparently, people have actually noticed that I have been totally slack with these posts. Admittedly, when I say people, I mean my Mum, but hell, an audience is an audience! Its just that time seems to fly by when your stressing about how much work you have to do in such a short period of time! But a little bit of stress is a great motivator, and now I have a clear idea of topics for my dissertation, which is awesome!

Enough about work! More about London adventures! The other weekend, I went to Hampton Court for the day, it was AMAZING. So much stuff to see and so little time! There are three main parts to the palace: the Tudor part, the part for William and Mary, and the Georgian part. So, because there is so much to say and I took so many photos, I am going to break down the Hampton Court excitement into three posts.

First, and probably most importantly, the Tudors.

Check out the fountain - apparently on special occasions, it would run with wine instead of water!

The palace was actually built (in this amazing red brick) in 1514 by Cardinal Wolsey, Henry the eight's closest advisor and the most powerful man in England. The whole place was designed to impress the numerous foreign dignitaries that Cardinal Wolsey entertained - in the main courtyard (in the photo above), all the upper rooms were specially designed as guest accommodation and all the rooms had their own toilets which drained out under the courtyard and into the Thames nearby. Not having to share a toilet was beyond impressive at the time.

However Wolsey made a fatal error in making the palace so amazing, Henry fell in love with it, and Wolsey had to give the palace to Henry as a "gift". Poor old Wolsey. Especially as he later fell out of favour with Henry because he couldn't organise Henry's divorce from Catherine of Aragon, and died in the Tower of London. There are rumours he committed suicide, but he was probably just sick.

There's ole Wolsey right at the top, above Henry. Interesting!

So, on to Henry, probably the most famous, and infamous, king in English history. He's pretty much remembered as a fat, gouty old man with a gammy leg. But when he first game to power, he was young, handsome, energetic and charismatic. He hunted and jousted, and was intelligent and funny. He was Johnathan Rhys Meyers. It was during his youth that Henry ruled with the help of Wolsey and his then wife, Catherine of Aragon. Even though Henry got fat and gouty later on, he never lost his charisma - he was the sort of person that people were drawn to and were excited to be in his presence. The fact that he was the King of England probably helped with that, but he was undoubtedly an attractively personality.

Look at him there, luring you in with his eyes.

So Henry got rid of Catherine, and replaced her with Anne Boleyn, then Jane Seymour, the Anne of Cleaves, then Catherine Howard and then Katherine Parr. Throughout this time, Hampton Court was still being added to, and different rooms have little pieces of each queen's iconography hidden everywhere. All trace of Anne Boleyn was supposed to have been removed, but some were missed. You can't really see it in the photo below, but on the far right hand side of the balcony, there is an A and H intertwined. But also, check out the ceiling! This is the banqueting hall, and you really have to see it to get how amazing it really is (especially as my photography skills aren't exactly the greatest).

My friend Samantha taught me a little poem to help remember the fate of all of Henry's wives: "Divorced, beheaded, died; divorced, beheaded, survived"! Out of all those wives, Henry got only three children: Mary, Elizabeth and Edward.

Here they all are: Edward standing on the left of Henry and Elizabeth on the right, with Mary on the far right. The women on the far left is probably Jane Seymour, Henry's favourite wife, even though she was dead by this time.

Although the youngest, Edward was the first on the throne, being the only, and much desired, son. Although he looked a lot like his father, he didn't have his father's strength, either of personality or physically. Edward was the son of Jane Seymour, who was Henry's most treasured wife because she gave him a son, and probably because she wasn't as aggravating as the previous two. After Jane died giving birth to Edward, Henry kept a lock of her hair in his bible until he died, and was buried next to her in St George's Chapel.

Edward only ruled England very briefly, and even then he ruled under the advice of a council because he was too young to rule alone. He died at the age of 15, probably of tuberculosis or pneumonia. In his will, he gave his throne to his cousin the Lady Jane Grey, ignoring his father's will. However, Mary was quick to depose Jane and take her place.

Mary, the eldest, was the daughter of Catherine of Aragon, and like her mother, a devout Catholic. She wasn't a particularly nice person - a lot of people where burned as heretics during her reign as queen. Her hardline approach was probably due to her relationship with her parents. Initially, both her parents were devoted to Mary and took a great interest in her education, particularly her mother. But when Catherine refused to divorce Henry, as punishment, Henry sent Mary away from her mother(using a child to inflict pain on an ex-wife! And they say history never repeats), and consequently, Mary greatly resented her father.

Mary married Philip of Spain, who was a bit of a weedy bloke and not much liked by the English public, but apparently they had quite a happy marriage. Mary became queen in 1553, after a little confusion with the Lady Jane Grey's appointment as a puppet queen. She ruled until 1558, aggressively pushing Catholicism and putting down Protestantism, until she died, probably, of ovarian cancer. Despite her negative legacy (she was commonly known as Bloody Mary, especially in Protestant Circles), she was a trailblazer, being the first woman to successfully claim the throne of England.

This is the clock gateway in Clock Court. The clock is amazing - it tells the time, the month, and the relevant sign of the zodiac. Also, check out the chimneys - Hampton Court is famous for these.

After Mary died, Elizabeth took the throne. Elizabeth was the daughter of the infamous Anne Boleyn and Henry, and seemed to unite some of the best qualities of both her parents - she was intelligent, strong, independent, and charismatic - and was probably the most like her father out of all her siblings. She was one of England's longest rulers (after Queen Victoria) and also one of the best. Under her rule, the British Empire was founded, which would eventually make England the most powerful nation in the world. She never married, believing that she had the ability to run the country alone. Books have been written about her, movies have been made about her (Cate Blanchet is probably my favourite), all in all, she was a pretty amazing woman.

The entrance to Hampton Court.

Ok, enough about people, let's get on to the important stuff - food!

Henry's court was made up of over 600 people, and they toured around the country, visiting all of Henry's palaces. This was partly for political reasons but also because the court sucked the surrounding countryside dry. Hampton Court has MASSIVE kitchens, designed to store and cook all the food that such a huge court required. The court ate a lot of meat, because meat was expensive and to be able to serve a lot of it showed how wealthy you were. This was also why all of the workers in Henry's kitchens were men - men were more expensive to hire. If you go to Hampton Court on the right days, there are experiemental chefs in the kitchens, cooking exactly the same way as they did in Tudor times.

Here's a wee photo, just to give you an idea about the scale of these kitchens - this is only one of the open fires, and its big enough to stand up in:

On that note, its time for dinner - more on Hampton Court soon!