The many places of Thames

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All sides of the river in different towns.

I have mentioned it in previous articles, but never spoke about it entirely and somehow I fell like I took it for granted, neglect it. I am lucky enough to have the rive on almost half an hour walk, and been lucky enough to see it in London, Windsor and obviously Reading.

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By spotting the differences between these places is noticeable that it doesn’t get much attention in every single one of them. However, the history lover comes out of me and aims to salute this wonderful old river who’s been a staple of England, enduring awful climates and giving people infections and death. Savage!

On a more joyful note, it is more than lovely to have a picnic by the river side in one of the not so common sunny days. A walk near it can be more than relaxing, especially when exams are knocking, hitting, throwing books at my door.

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Didn’t quite realized  that I have seen so many “places” of Thames, but I am glad I did.

Windsor on a sunny day

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In Windsor you look posh, you feel posh.

Been thinking lately that there are almost two months remained from my experience abroad. Looking back I wonder where it has gone?! Yesterday it was September and I was wondering London’s streets…

And so, I was thinking that my lack of participation on this blog, that is supposed to be more than a travel journal, a sort of back up memory of my experience, should be compensated by a steady up to date description of how my last two months and a half materialize. But I got lost in the thought that it will be full of me studying and crying…

Nonetheless, I do have some activities that are worth writing about for my older self.

(and after a long introduction) Windsor! On a Monday morning, called a friend, went straight to the train station and bought tickets to see this small, yet full of history town.

What I loved the most about Windsor was the way in which the modern building could still not be spotted or differentiated by the old ones. It has kept the old buildings where people celebrated queens after king’s birthdays, coronations or decapitations. To be honest, humans are barbarians.

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And even if the fairly new establishments appeared, they are designed in such a manner that one could tell it is the queen’s town. Long field till the castle, people with long boots Burberry scarves and huge Italian greyhounds walking tight and stiff so you could realize that they are above a peasant and that they have probably had tea with one of the royalties.

People know Windsor is a touristic magnet, so don’t be surprised be the assault of shops with post cards, tees, stuffed animals and cardboard cut outs with the queen’s face. The riverside train station is right near the castles so there is no chance for a anyone to miss it. For 18 pounds you could visit it and come once again another time, who knows, maybe you’ll need it.

Also, if you have a neat physical condition you could walk through the Great Park… a life time, I am obviously not in a good shape… and see the statue of King George III as well as adorable deer whom you’ll be kindly asked at the park’s entrance to not get too close.

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Another beautiful view is given by the wonderful Thames filled with boats and swans, and while you’re there, cross the river and visit Elton college, especially if you are a fan of Prince Harry. It could be the closest path you both have ever walked in this life time.

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Speaking of paths, no worries if you are more of a queen’s admire, they took care of marking her way.

 

 

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Here is a very descriptive photo. Enjoy! 🙂

You think you know English?

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As a person who studies English ever since I can remember, I thought I can actually put words into sentences and make something coherent. This sort of confidence was brought to me by teachers and all sorts of lost foreigners searching for museums.

My thoughts and my confidence were to be shaken when I landed in UK.

At first the ACCENT hits me. Nothing bad, all lovely. Who doesn’t like a British accent? Quoting one of my teachers: What accent? (think about that one). But then ACCENTS happened. And I didn’t knew whether that is English, what I say is English or every thing I have learned was a lie. It gets better after a while, until of course another one comes along.

The worst part, however, is the slang. A tricky game. In the first part of the conversation laugh if they do. In the second one try harder to understand the context. Maybe even put some sign language reading skills at work.

And if by this time you’re still lost, back up into a corner, search for WiFi and Google it! Because the hole conversation might sound pleasant but they have such lovely words for such dirty talks.

By no means do I say that my English is perfect. Far away from that. Nonetheless, is a clear fact that the Brits have it their own way.