Just imagine. You are in a pub in a nice part of west London, ordering a large pinot and a packet of pork scratchings, when you notice the man next to you. He has an odd-sounding Welsh accent and is wearing a hat pulled down low as he mumbles an order for a Stella. Maybe he is down from Cardiff for a quick showing of Cats – or maybe he is the next King of Great Britain.
Rarely do royal reports get quite so entertaining as the treat the Daily Mail has just bestowed on us about Prince William, revealing that he sometimes dons disguises to hang out with his mates at the pub and enjoy a few cold ones. Other delightful new information about Australia’s next King includes that he had to be taught how to load a dishwasher by the Middletons, that doing his first supermarket shop blew his mind, and that he and Kate, The Princess of Wales, have said no thank you to hot and cold running flunkeys in their home. His Prince of Wales title might date back to 1301, but William is truly the monarchy’s first Duke of the Dishrack.
This private prince was seen by the world in late May when HRH and three close friends, in a great British tradition, flew to the Continent to patriotically sink lager and cheer for a homegrown football team. Aston Villa’s victory in the Europa League final in Istanbul saw William openly tear up, showing more emotion than at his wedding and both of his grandparents’ funerals combined.
The Band of Brothers
Along for the ride on the trip to Turkey were his lifelong mates: Ben Dawes, Edward van Cutsem, and Thomas van Straubenzee, a group who over-index on surnames, labradors, and old school ties. Also on the trip was Edward’s 17-year-old son Jake. These men are, the Mail reports, his band of brothers, a tight coterie formed decades ago that provides human, personal ballast against the unbearable weight of being heir to a 1,000-year-old throne.
So what do they do when they get together? They, like pretty much every other 40-something dad given a reprieve from adjudicating iPad fights, love getting together to scorch sausages and drink. Their meetings are infrequent but cherished, a royal source told the Mail. The lads are particular fans of barbecues, beer, and a lot of wine. While they prefer to hang at each other’s houses, they also meet at pubs in West London with discreet landlords and quiet back rooms, where the Prince is said to be partial to a pint of Stella Artois.
Disguises and Adventures
According to the Mail, William and his gang holiday abroad together at least once a year, often at a ski resort. During these under-the-radar outings, the prince dons an occasional disguise. This involves him either growing or shaving off a beard, wearing a hat and glasses, and on occasions, employing an iffy Welsh accent to put strangers off the scent. Wow. What a trickster. Maybe he should see if Harrods could send over a pair of plastic glasses with an attached comedy nose and moustache.
Still, things can get a tad rowdy, with the source saying their occasionally boisterous behaviour has to be toned down so as not to draw too much attention to themselves. Not that they always succeed. In 2023, William was photographed dancing at east London’s KOKO club with other members of his band of brothers, Guy Pelly and James Meade, only hours after the prince undertook the onerous official duty of going to Royal Ascot. Ditto in 2017, when the prince faced the serious accusation of doing dad dancing in public when he hit a nightclub in the Swiss ski resort of Verbier during a lads trip. During the same getaway, which he took instead of attending the Commonwealth Day Service at Westminster Abbey, he was photographed enjoying a lubricated lunch including wine, beer, and Jagerbombs with a 24-year-old Australian model.
According to the Mail, there is just one rule when the prince and his pals are bonding over their pints: No royal talk. Conversations about William’s current or future roles are strictly off limits.
Domestic Prince
Then there is what we can learn about the Waleses’ home front, where it sounds like he is the very picture of domesticity incarnate, well after some training at least. We now know, thanks to the Mail, that when he started dating Kate more than 20 years ago and suddenly found himself in the middle-class milieu of Agas and homemade Yorkshire puds, he was forced to realise that most people are not served sandwiches on silver salvers. Life chez Middleton meant he actually had to learn how to load a dishwasher and confront the fact that a royal upbringing had left him painfully disconnected from reality.
Take the painful, red-faced moment when he was tasked with setting the table for Christmas lunch: Errr … um … how? Laying a tablecloth was a struggle and placing the cutlery was embarrassing. He tried to claim it was because he is left-handed, the royal source told the Mail. Then came what sounds like a red-letter day, a Caesarian Rubicon of normality, when William was dispatched to the supermarket. His first experience of a big shop following Carole’s detailed lists was apparently mind-boggling, said the source.
Other rude shocks for the Prince of Wales included that the Middletons had to nip to the shop for food, ensure there was enough bread in the house, empty their own bins, and put out the recycling on the right day. Luckily, the source says that the prince found all these novel domestic duties refreshing. A couple of decades later, he is still at it, which is why the home he and Kate have built is a fundamental departure from the usual royal set up. In contrast to his father King Charles’ homes, there are fewer flunkeys wandering around.
While the Wales family has help from their trusted nanny Maria Turrion Barrollo and her assistant, a valet, a housekeeper, and a cook, they largely operate out of sight. The cook is sometimes redundant as William or Kate often cook themselves, said the source, a personal Everest Charles has never bothered to attempt to scale.
In total, with private secretaries, aides, and what-have-yous, William and Kate’s entire operation is said to number close to 60 people, who work out of offices at Kensington Palace and Windsor Castle. However, unlike in every other senior royal household, the Waleses’ staff are not allowed to roam around their family homes, including Forest Lodge at Windsor, their Palace apartment in London, or their Norfolk weekender Anmer Hall.
So you have to wonder. In a few decades from now, will Prince George, The Prince of Wales, finish off a busy day of holding investitures and knighting England forwards by coming home to stir fry for his own supper and then manfully handwash his own silk pocket squares? I truly hope so. The Middleton-ising of the monarchy might be what actually saves the whole thing.
