I missed most of the celebratory larks, being in travelling mode most of the time. I had harboured hopes the final balcony moment would see Kate and Meghan emerge, armoured and armed, each ready to seize the crown for her man. For the record I think Meghan would win. More of a street fighter. Kate would put up a helluva fight, though.
Yes, I’ve been watching too much Game of Thrones and simultaneously reading too much of the Wars of the Roses, where everyone winds up murdering everyone else, and the women are emerging as being just as vicious as the men.
It's a nice place, Portsmouth. They seem keen on bunting and very big flags. They have the Royal Dockyard, which for a ship enthusiast like me is Disneyland.
HMS Victory is impressive, but it was the Mary Rose I had come to see.
Forty years ago, I watched the Mary Rose being lifted from the sea bed. I am not ashamed to say I burst into tears when I saw her.
She turned over just as she was preparing to do battle with the French, which for Henry VIII was something of a lifelong hobby. Why she sank so quickly is still a bit of a mystery.
She took about 500 of her crew with her. Heartbreaking bits and pieces of their daily lives have been carefully preserved from that moment in 1542. Shoes, tools, nit combs and masses of tiny pocket sundials, many looking sharp-edged and new. Some bloke was probably standing on the quayside banging the latest models out. You still using last year's sundial? You want to upgrade to this. Solid elm, mate.
I wonder what clutter we’ll send 500 years into the future? Given recent history, probably covid tests, masks and bunting. And the mystery of the vanishing Duke of York.