I would normally be worried about missing the train, but the service runs regularly for all the visitors who fancy a Hampton Court Palace day trip from London. We had originally planned to catch the 9:00 train from Waterloo to Hampton Court, but we slept in a little later and hopped on the train that departed just after 10:30.
The walk from our County Hall Hotel to Waterloo Station is short and pleasant, and after asking an attendant where we might locate our platform, we have no problem scanning the tickets on our phones and boarding the train.
Hampton Court Palace Day Trip from London
*We used the TfL Go App to assist with planning our London Underground and train travel.
We find seats on the right-hand side, hoping to catch glimpses of Wimbledon or maybe a golf course. (Spoiler: all there is to see is graffiti and the backsides of apartment buildings, so feel free to snooze on this train.)
The train ride is quick, and soon we’re walking across the bridge towards Hampton Court. Since it’s close to 11:00, we decide to eat lunch before touring the palace— our original plan was to eat at The Mute Swan, located directly across from the palace entry gates, but we discovered that they don’t start serving food until noon.
We pivot our plan and walk over to The Six at The King’s Arms Hotel, which is serving lunch. It’s not the most memorable meal, but it does the job—fuel for the palace tour ahead.
Like many of London’s historic attractions, Hampton Court Palace is free to enter. We walk through the large gates and up the gravel path. The palace is far more sprawling than we’d imagined.
We’re immediately reminded of the scene in The Tudors where Henry VIII essentially forces Cardinal Wolsey to hand it over, basically after he’s just finished building it as his summer retreat.
Inside the gates, we step into the inner courtyard—“Base Court.” At one time, a moat encircled the palace, and you can still see the remnants of a water line along the brick.
It’s a busy day at the palace, thanks to the Easter holiday and a Lindt-sponsored egg hunt. Parents let their children run absolutely wild—screaming, shrieking, tearing through the courtyards. Hampton Court hasn’t heard this much screaming since Catherine Howard tried to flee Henry VIII, only to be dragged by her hair to her fate at the Tower.
We collect our audio guides in the Croft Shop and try to steer clear of the worst of the crowds. We begin with the “Tudor World” tour, which starts in Cardinal Wolsey’s original chambers—the oldest part of the palace. The rooms are beautifully preserved, and the ornate ceilings are particularly striking.
There are famous portraits everywhere: Henry, of course, and Anne Boleyn wearing her infamous “B” necklace—one that’s now lost to history.
Next, we explore Henry VIII’s apartments. My favorite space is the banquet hall, with its ancient tapestries and signs on the dining tables instructing visitors on how to behave in court. Light pours in through the stained-glass windows, and it’s easy to imagine what the room felt like at the height of Tudor opulence.
We move into the corridor where people once waited in hopes of glimpsing the king as he emerged from his chambers. The intricate gold ceiling here is jaw-dropping.
Further down is the so-called “Haunted Corridor,” where Catherine Howard once ran screaming. Guests and staff over the years claim to have heard her ghost.
This hallway connects to Henry’s private chapel, where photography is forbidden, though many ignored this rule while a red-clad staff member silently waved in protest. A replica of Henry’s crown sits here, with a sign explaining that the original was destroyed during Cromwell’s reign.
From here, we make our way to the kitchens. The sheer number—and size—of the fireplaces is staggering. One is lit, and even that single blaze throws off intense heat.
It’s hard to imagine working in these conditions for hours, especially in the summer. Sample menus show the shocking disparity between what the royals ate and what the staff received. No wonder Henry ended up so massive in his later years.
Also, definitely not a great time to be a vegetarian. Meat, meat, and more meat.
Our eyes widen when we see a sample pair of shoes a Tudor cook might have worn—wooden platform slide-on sandals that look like a torture device.
Having seen all we want inside, we head out to the gardens. The yew trees are trimmed into whimsical toadstool shapes—delightfully quirky and very English. I feel like I’ve stepped into Alice in Wonderland. If the White Rabbit were ever to appear, it would be here.
We follow a path to the manmade canal, once used to float a genuine Venetian gondola. Then we head toward the hedge maze—the oldest in the U.K.—dodging children in various states of shrieking glee. The maze itself is fun, and we only take one wrong turn.
Ironically, it’s not because we’re lost but because we’re trying to escape a frantic family armed with a stroller behind us. The kids are squealing, the pram is bumping my ankles, and the parents are urging them on like it’s the Olympic finals. We ducked left just to get out of their way.
Speaking of exits, we’re ready to make ours. We cross back over the bridge and head to the station, where the train is conveniently waiting to shuttle us back to London.
Tonight’s dinner is in Kensington at Brompton Cross. We take the Tube from Westminster and walk about ten minutes to the restaurant. On the way, Kenny spots a blast from the past: the “Michelin Man” restaurant where he tried octopus for the first time on his first trip to London.
The restaurant is actually called Claude Bosi at Bibendum housed inside the first floor of Michelin House, complete with an iconic stained glass window featuring the Michelin Man.
Just down the street, Brompton Cross is buzzing for the evening. We climb the stairs to the restaurant and are seated by a window overlooking the street. The interior feels cozy and nostalgic, decorated with old travel posters and photos of Roger Moore as James Bond. Cue the theme music.
I order a Negroni, Kenny sticks with his now beloved Cornish cider, and we share the Welsh Rarebit. This version tastes more like fancy cheese toast, but it’s still delicious.
For dinner, I order the pumpkin and sage ravioli drizzled with infused olive oil—so flavorful! I’d order it again in a heartbeat. Kenny gets the fish and chips, but the chips lean toward standard French fries, not quite on the level of The Fox & Pheasant.
Too full for dessert, we skipped it and headed home to our hotel room at County Hall. Taking the Tube is easy and fast, and once again, we find ourselves walking across Westminster Bridge, Big Ben glowing above us.
I struggle to fall asleep again—it’s after midnight before I finally drift off, dreaming of ornate gold ceilings, hedge mazes, and white rabbits…
