Even in Windsor!

"Where can we find a cafe for eggs and toast?"  we ask the proprietor of the news agent.
"Not in Windsor," comes the confident reply.

Here we are in the small town of Windsor, in the shadow of Windsor Castle, residence of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth.  We have been walking up and down the streets glancing in the windows of posh hat and shoe shops.
With Ascot race track only 15 minutes away, hats fill the shops -- finely woven straw creations in rainbow brilliance dangle price tags up to £190.  At Daniel's, a milliner "by appointment of the Queen," feathery fascinators (a headpiece connected to a thin headband), many at £95, line a wall.  But when it comes to a greasy spoon for breakfast..."Not in Windsor" is the verdict.

Ah, but luck will have it...we spot a construction worker in a bright yellow reflector vest.  Bingo! "People head to the Bite Cafe," he explains, and we are directed a bit beyond the beaten track.

Happy Husband enjoys a full English breakfast.No complaints -- and the mug of tea comes hot.  Movable chairs and wooden tables keep the decor nearing posh, suitable for the Queen's local diner. Bright art work on a Mexican theme provides bursts of colour throughout.

This being our second trip to Windsor this year, the train trip from London's Paddington Station seems almost routine.  While I love visiting a new place, I also appreciate the familiarity of a repeat visit (especially when there's a re-usable entry ticket). Originally we came on New Year's Day -- best day to see a castle (if it's open) as tourists are few and locals are at home.  No queues. No school groups.  This visit we're accompanying hundreds more visitors, but not like the busy-ness one might expect in the summer.

And then of course there is the castle -- the real McCoy -- high on the hill.  Enshrined within are the tombs of Henry VIII and his favoured wife, Jane Seymour, the memorial chapel for the recently deceased Queen Mother and Queen Mary's dollhouse.

My sister-in-law has urged me to visit, knowing my interest in miniatures and dollhouses.  Queen Mary's dollhouse far supasses my expectations: even the wine in the tiny bottles is real!  Everything is in working order, gifts from the manufacturers, inventors and promoters.  Impressive.  My father would have loved the cars in the garage -- a row of them!

Windsor Castle was never bombed in WW2, protected -- so the story goes-- by Hitler's desire to claim it as his own and his plan to move in and set up house after his victory.

This visit we not only enjoy the view from the castle but head down to the river, and cross for a walk though Eton, the home of Eton College. Shops offer school ties and blazers, and dashing suits for that weekend visit to Aunt Fiona's.

Daffodils colour the fields.

There's time for a leisurely stroll around the college perimeter along the river, and finally a cup of tea at the riverside before our evening train back to London.

Another breakfast only Britain could provide.  Another amazing Breakfast in Britain.