Dapper Downton

Well, yesterday marked the pinnacle point of what my study abroad class is all about . . . Downton Abbey.
We started out in the later half of the morning, making our trek from Paddington Station to the outskirt town of Newbury, Berkshire.  Despite the obvious increase in revenue and foot-traffic, there is no general mass transportation from the station to Highclere Castle (Downton Abbey).  The fourteen of us, including the professor, split cabs which of course started a not-so-friendly war amongst the fellow cabbies (what is new?) and our nervous blabbering made it worse.  However, we still managed to arrive safe and sound and with everyone's attitude, well... somewhat intact.

This is probably where I should explain that we had been told (merely 48 hours previous to this day trip) that we did not have tickets to tour Highclere and that they had been sold out since last summer . . .
     Needless to say, there was some growing restlessness amongst the beasts.
It had been rumored that if you showed up around 2 p.m. (14 p.m.) and on, you could still get entry tickets and that no one had yet to be turned away!
    Need I remind anyone that there is a first time for everything?
With that noted, I do believe that this picture dully notes that things went well . . .

Granted, the photography of the interior was severely limited, but as Becca and I began to descend from the second floor of bedrooms to "The Saloon" (or as the Downton fans know it: the forye at the bottom of the grand staircase), we grabbed for one another's hand and proceeded to imagine as though we were Mary and Carson and Matthew were watching us with new-found love in the hope of a cold Christmas.
     Needless to say, most English majors are the first ones to show overly affectionate signs of emotion towards such things, but it was dearest Becca (the pharmaceutical major) that shed the first, and most, actual tears.  It was worth the whole trip.  That is the power of Downton, people . . .

Of course I had to continue the fantasy of being Mary and sit my happy-little-self on the bench where she and Matthew have their first proposal. . .

I'm cute; I know.
And so continues the Downton/ Highclere fandom . .

I touched Downton Abbey!

Also, a small shout out to my very sweet friend Marcus who is actually from Newbury and lives 10 minutes from Highclere! Wish you could have joined us but I think this suffices how our day was spent :)

Moral of the story?  Be jealous and come visit before the opportunity passes!