A few days before the Queen's Platinum Jubilee, we took our 13-year-old granddaughter, Maya, to Windsor.
In truth, the castle, flags, bunting and stately emblems left her cold until we chanced on a Reuters broadcast crew interviewing a suitably costumed souvenir shop owner. That fascinated her a little.
Maya's mood perked up further when we ate fish and chips by the river and took a short cruise on the Thames, afterwards pausing to admire the swans. The cafe had been "dry" and we fancied a beer or glass of wine - my wife and I, that is - but we didn't even check whether the Two Brewers pub at the entrance to the Great Park had finally joined the 21st century and lifted objections to grandparents stepping inside with a child.
The Reuters reporter asked if I'd like to be interviewed. I said that as a fellow-journalist, I might be an inappropriate candidate for her vox pop.
Had she persisted, I'd have expressed respectful but balanced thoughts; even though I am not a royalist, I do quite like tradition and Queen Elizabeth's reign has been a feature of almost my entire life.
And I enjoy visiting Windsor, which I first saw 15 years into that reign when I hitch-hiked down from County Durham for the 1967 Jazz and Blues festival at the riverside racecourse.
Fifty-five years on, I remember very little. I was then working (unhappily) in the offices of an engineering factory in Darlington.
The colleague with whom I travelled to Windsor - Dave is the name that springs to mind but I may well be wrong - was cooler. He'd been at the Jimi Hendrix gig, part of Chas Chandler's campaign to unleash him on the UK public, at a small venue in the town and I had not.
The rides down were a lot less troublesome than those back. I remember that very clearly, especially one protracted early-morning wait - South Yorkshire maybe - for a northbound lift.
Of the festival itself, I do recall P P Arnold, Pentangle and the Small Faces. I vaguely remember Bert Jansch appearing late on stage with Pentangle and seeming, um, off-colour. I vividly remember Steve Marriott, lead singer of the Small Faces, being booed. A couple of chairs may have been thrown.
Pink Floyd were billed but pulled out. But I should know for sure whether I saw Cream, John Mayall, Geno Washington and others. Move, Marmalade, Zoot Sims, The Crazy World of Arthur Brown, Donovan? I'm sorry but I'll have to pass. I remember heavy rain pounding on our tent but so little else.
It was the first music festival I'd attended. I have a good memory of most of the many that followed. Windsome, lose some.
And finally a shout-out for the Two Brewers
Welcome to the UK. Windsor teeming with foreign visitors accustomed to civilisation and next to the park, the Two Brewers adapt ‘liberty’ to include the freedom to ban a child of 10 with her grandparents pic.twitter.com/KHpOipnLxn— Colin Randall (@salutsunderland) October 7, 2018