Brush with royalty

So, today was the Cambridge Trusts reception for new scholars and bursars...ie, everyone who gets money from the trusts is invited to schmooze and drink Trinity College Lemonade (i think the secret ingredient was lemons) and eat little bitty sandwiches. When I arrived, as I was scouting around for Scott and Katrin, a very shall we say ebullient woman informed me that yes, indeed, (Cambridge's favorite word, I believe) PRINCE CHARLES would be arriving by helicopter and that the very posh porta-loos (potties) were just behind the trees. It took me a second to realize that these were two unrelated pieces of information.

Anyway, the short version is that I had wine before noon, drank lemonade, ate little sandwiches, tarts, and brownies, and heard HRH arrive by helicopter. Then he spent over an hour shaking hands with everyone (mostly tall people, or minorities, or people in 'national dress'), including Scott and Sacha. I couldn't bring myself to shake his hand, as his fingers are very fat and not at all princely, and I was holding a brownie and my lemonade. We made eye contact and nodded, though. That was nice.

And now, when people ask me about England, I finally have my standard anecdote.