On Tuesday Sarah and I decided to finally buy tickets to tour the inside of Hampton Court Palace. As you may remember from a previous blog of mine, this is the palace that I stumbled upon on the run I took back in February. This place is not just a palace (okay, are they ever JUST a palace?-No, the answer is no, that is not possible). This palace in particular was once the home to King Henry VIII. I would like to begin by reminding you all that King Henry III reigned five centuries ago so if the thought crossed your mind or even if it didn’t, this building is in fact older than America.
If you know me well you would know that I have a strange obsession with King Henry VIII. He is mostly famous for being an overweight tyrant who couldn’t remain monogamous to save his life. This is only partially how I see him. I think of him as he was early in his reign; athletic, intelligent, and driven. He changed the face of England forever and while some may not think that as a necessarily good thing, it still is so. His dynasty remained with his daughter, Elizabeth continuing his legacy. I could go on and on about the history of King Henry VIII but I will not bore you (although I find it fascinating and I think that everyone else should too).
I will run the risk of sounding crazy when I say this but I don’t care. I feel a special connection to King Henry VIII. Whether or not you believe in past lives (I’m not even sure that I do) I feel that my pull towards him cannot be explained as simply a love for history. When we entered the palace I did the girl dance. You know the dance a girl does when a guy she likes finally talks to her or asks her out? I’m sure if you are a woman you understand what I am talking about and if you are a man, well I’m sorry for the mental image of a girl neurotically dancing around like a freak. Just remember that you were probably the cause of this dance at least once. So there I was, jumping around like a mad woman, despite the many onlookers. Many times when I visit historical places I feel detached from their actual history. Usually I just want to take a picture, identical to any postcard I could buy on the street, and get on with my day, but this was different. It was almost as if I could envision him walking through the corridors and strolling through the gardens (the sound effects helped and actors may have helped with this).
The sheer elegance of the artifacts, the decorations, and the landscapes truly encompassed the great king. There is much more that I could say about this experience or about my undying and honestly quite odd love for King Henry VIII but having just written three essays, my thoughts are jumbled as I’m sure you could tell. In just one week I will be back in the States and this experience will be nothing more than a memory so for now, I must fit in as much exploration as I can!
Cheers xoxo.
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