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How To Embarrass Yourself (And Be A Terribly Mean Flatmate) In London |
by Ashley Crosby
I suppose it all started when the District and Circle lines were closed on the weekend for repair. Well, maybe I should back up and say I was in London for a study abroad program. In fact, I was officially a resident of Kensington, in the Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, living in student flats. That experience is a story in its own right.
However, we are talking about the weekend the District and Circle lines were closed. For those of you who do not know the London Underground, Circle -- if you'll excuse the pun -- circles downtown London while District is just one of those lines that seems to hit half the major areas in the city. For these to be closed for maintenance meant the Tube was frightfully jammed and really not worth dealing with at all.
So there I was, contemplating my Saturday activity with Ashleigh, Caitlin, and April -- my three flatmates. It was our first weekend in London and we wanted to do something London-y while avoiding the underground. None of us too keen on figuring out the bus system (we were still just amused by the sight of double deckers), we opted for doing something in decent walking distance. Our decision: Kensington Palace and Gardens. That would be perfect. Oh, and ice cream -- our "walking home from the park" treat.
Up Gloucester Road we went to Kensington High Street, through the zebra crossing, and straight into the park. We walked the distance to the palace, attempting cartwheels in the spirit of being in a very large park with lots of grass, and came up to the palace walls. After spending a good twenty minutes attempting to take macro shots of flowers, we decided to go into the palace, mostly to walk through the Last Debutantes Exhibition. Ashleigh, Caitlin, and I gladly forked out the money, and April decided that the Dr. Who exhibit was more bang for her pound. To each their own, and we said good-bye to our flatmate.
If you have a chance to go to London and you want to do a thorough palace tour, naturally you'll have to make a stop at Kensington Palace. I can't say the palace itself left any lasting impressions on me, but the Debutante exhibit was fascinating and Diana's dresses were fun to point at while trying to remember when I saw her wearing them. Really, the entire tour was worth it to watch us attempt to tie bow ties in the Debutante exhibit.
Now we come to the real story. Throughout the course of the trip, Ashleigh and I discovered that we enjoy sites at a slower pace than most of the rest of the group. Caitlin, always cheerful and in perpetual motion, beat us out of the palace tour by nearly twenty minutes. She told us her stomach was bothering her, and she would be on a bench waiting for us.
By the time we were through, I beat Ashleigh out of the gift shop and started my hunt for Caitlin. I found her returning from a large green full of people to the side of the palace. Stomach obviously doing better, she was hopping around and looking rather excited. "Guess who I just saw!" she squealed at me.
I looked over at the group of people before looking back at her. "Who?"
"Phillip!"
I was immediately jealous. Why hadn't I come out early and had the chance to see Phillip? Why did I decide to linger in the royal chambers as long as I did? Why did I sit down in the ballroom and stare at it as long as I did? Why hadn't I had a chance to see Phillip? I didn't let my jealousy show, however, and instead got excited in true American tourist fashion: "No way! That's like so totally awesome!"
"Yeah!" Caitlin agreed, before becoming more solemn. Quietly she said, "Who's Phillip?"
At first I thought she joking, but I realized by the look on her face that she really didn't know who Phillip was. "You don't know?"
"No, I don't have a clue. I just saw that maroonish helicopter land, and lots of people started moving towards it yelling 'It's Phillip! It's Phillip!' so I figured he was important and so I'd go take pictures of Phillip, too." She pulled out her camera and showed me a shot of Prince Phillip waving at the crowd. "So who's Phillip?"
Rather than answering, I rather rudely burst out laughing. I really meant to answer her question, but the absurdity of Caitlin coming to England without knowing Phillip was a little too much for me. I felt terrible, I really did.
Ashleigh finally joined us and wanted to know what I was laughing at. I regained control of myself and said, "Caitlin doesn't know who Phillip is." To this, Ashleigh took her turn to laugh.
Caitlin, bless her, was still smiling but looking so very confused and obviously wanted her answer. I finally put her out of her misery. "Phillip is the Prince Consort."
She stared blankly at me. "The what?"
"He's married to the queen."
"Oh. Oh! I saw the queen's husband! Wow, I got a picture of ROYALTY!" Caitlin's excitement was renewed until she asked, "But, if he's married to the queen, why isn't he the king?"
This question I passed to Ashleigh. I figured it would be easier for the Canadian to explain that one. We spent the rest of our walk back through the park -- and getting ice cream -- discussing how British Royalty worked.
The moral to the story: When going to study in a country, take the time to learn the key figures in its government and/or royal family. If you do, you will certainly avoid great embarrassment later.
This story was told and slightly embellished with the permission of Caitlin. She takes great amusement in the experience now, too.
Ashley Crosby is a Creative Writing MFA student at Chapman University. In her spare time she job hunts, works on independent study classes, and manages a magazine website. She wants to go to Utah to get the rest of her stuff out of her Grandma's basement, but things continue to get in her way and she remains stuck in Southern Californa; she tries to not complain about it the situation too much.
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