Inside Highclere Castle, the home of ‘Downton Abbey’

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Going to the ‘Abbey’ again

December brings “Downton Abbey’s” trillionth viewing. Movie No. 2. Highclere Castle, Britannia’s ancestral pile of bricks in Earl of Carnarvon county an hour outside London. Just wrapped filming. Says this tourist attraction’s current chatelaine, the eighth countess, Her Ladyship Fiona:

“There’s no international tourism now. We ourselves personally move things because the supercareful film crew is many and the artifacts costly. All wore masks. Livelihoods rule in this atmosphere. I just replaced precious china and Napoleon’s original desk. The cast’s using the same red sofas. Highclere’s 300 rooms star in the show. It’s costly.

“This has been a home since 749, Anglo-Saxon time. We have an original Bible, a year 1280 handwritten Quran, thousand-year-old trees from Elizabeth the First. Menus 1,200 years old.”

Its ancient dining table, which can seat a platoon, has recipes for 1,797 ox heads. Who has that many forks?

“We’ve renewed our alarm system, which suddenly went off 3 a.m. We now have 542 fire detectors.

“Plus ghosts. It’s haunted. Hearing footsteps we’ve called out, but nobody there. A priest blessed one ghost I saw and wished him on his way. I live with people who’ve lived here before. We don’t know everything about spirits but I’m trying to exist alongside them.”

He’s still the ‘Star’

RuPaul’s sixth TV prance is June 24. His “Drag Race: All Stars” is no drag. Hogging the spotlight — Miss Piggy. Plus Angela Bassett, Tina Knowles, Emma Roberts, Tanya Tucker, Cheyenne Jackson and some partridge with a wig and jeweled eyelashes in a pear tree.

Not hustling any Century 21 leftovers, off-camera Ru wears Prada’s hand-tailored gentleman suits and rests his bones in sunny cities’ multimillion-dollar homes. On-camera, his hip and butt pads come from Bra Tenders.

RuPaul’s one unfulfilled dream? “I want to play glamour cat Grizabella.”

45’s shaky flight

We know Donald — don’t ask Donald Who — flies into NYC periodically to run his business affairs and legal affairs. Unconfirmed but now repeated by several mouths: Last month the plane supposedly had mechanical trouble. One engine acted as ineffectively as Joe Biden and they had to land in some foreign territory called Virginia.

Of Twit wits, I give not a whit

To Monday’s Twitter birdies who leaked their bodily fluid on me: I don’t tweet, but I can still smell your droppings. To answer one of your questions about whether — as I wrote — people still wrap fish in a newspaper? Yes, they have done, but it’s not the NY Post. 

Now hear this

If you’re tired being tired, read John Grisham’s new novel “Sooley.” No mystery. A great story . . . THEN I tell you that from the large mouth of W.C. Fields — although not recently since Hollywood’s early time comedian left us 1946: “I am free of all prejudices. I hate everyone equally.” . . . THEN, from my own delicate lips: “With nobody wanting to work, if you go to a rejuiced restaurant — you need a cellphone to get a waiter . . . ALSO, nightlife’s returning. Marilu Henner at Café Fiorello says her “Music and Memories!” act is opening at 54 Below.

FINALLY, it’s summer. Temperatures are soaring. So hot that de Blasio, the temp, had the legislature pass a bill demanding Miss Liberty put her arm down.

Only in New York, kids, only in New York.

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