one touch of nature makes the whole world kin.
So clearly when I said I would update tomorrow, I meant in a week. It takes so much more energy to get motivated to write about things that happened over two weeks ago, but I will try because I know there is a vast multitude of faithful followers hanging on my every word.
February 19, Manuel and I took ourselves a little trip up to Stratford-Upon-Avon to see the hometown of Mr. William Shakespeare in all its glory. We actually made it to the station on time, so it was already off to a good start. First, we had to take a train to Birmingham and then head into the country on a smaller train. After shuttling through some more beautiful English countryside, we reached the end of the line in Stratford, and began our afternoon adventure.
After wandering around finding baby Manuel a potty, we headed to our first destination on the journey through ol’ Shakey’s life — his birthplace. The house is a modest little cottage in the middle of “downtown” Stratford, though in this case, the term has virtually none of the ubran connotations. We wandered the grounds for a few minutes while we waited our turn to go in (they only let in small groups of people at a time since it’s not a big place), and then we went in and learned more about Shakespeare’s family and childhood life. There was a staff member in pretty much every room of the house (which is only about 6 rooms) to talk about various aspects of his life and answer questions.
the room where Shakespeare was born, thanks to my sneaky photography skills yet again.
It was pretty weird thinking that more than 400 years ago a baby boy was born who would turn out to be basically the greatest writer in the English language. As the oldest surviving son of a whittawer and the daughter of a respectable land owner, there’s no way that they could have known what their son would grow up to be, or the kind of impact he would have on the world. It’s pretty phenomenal. After we had seen what there was to see inside the house, the grounds, and the gift store, we headed through the streets of Stratford to our next destination.
coolest tree I’ve ever seen
The city of Stratford itself is — in a word — adorable. Suffice it to say that many of the buildings look like this one, which is in fact the city’s public library:
The city also shamelessly capitalizes on its historical associations: everything seems to be named after Shakespeare or his contemporaries — this includes the Shakespeare Hostel, Marlowe’s Restaurant, and the Hathaway Tea Rooms, all of which are within about a block of each other. Even the local Waterstone’s has a huge plaque on their storefront with a Shakespeare quote on it.
Our next destination on the list of Shakespeare properties we visited was Nash’s house, which was where Shakespeare’s granddaughter Elizabeth lived with her husband Thomas Nash. The rooms on the upper story of the house had been set up as a sort of museum about life in Shakey’s time, and it was basically just a cute house to wander through.
The side door of the house takes you to a lawn/garden area that used to be the site of New Place, which used to be the second largest house in Stratford (you would think the old man could have afforded the largest house in the city) and was Shakespeare’s final residence as well as where he passed away. However, after his daughter and granddaughter died, the family who built the house eventually sold it to the wealthy Reverend Francis Gastrell, a crazy old codger who first burned down the mulberry tree Shakespeare planted because he was sick of all the tourists who came to visit it, and then he tore down the entire house to avoid land taxes. What a classy guy. So thanks to him, Shakespeare’s final house is no longer. There are some beautiful gardens though, and a collection pretty cool statues in the memorial gardens out back that represent some of his most famous works. I bet the place is even prettier in the spring, but we had a good time messing around in the gardens regardless.
rumor has it that this mulberry tree was planted from a cutting from Shakey’s original
outside of Nash’s house
From there, we walked the short distance to Hall’s Croft, the house where Shakespeare’s daughter Susanna (his only child) lived with her husband, a physician named John Hall. Like the other properties, the inside of the house is set up as it would have been during the time in which they lived, and this one included some really interesting displays and information about medical practices and beliefs during the 16th and 17th centuries. Also like the other properties, the grounds had some rather beautiful gardens. I’ve decided mom needs to come live in Stratford, and I’ll gladly come along as well.
After Hall’s Croft, we had exhausted our options in terms of Shakespeare properties that were included on our eight pound tickets, and as it was getting late in the afternoon, we hurried ourselves to the Holy Trinity Church in order to get in before it closed. As per usual with old English churches, it was an absolutely beautiful building dating back 800 years, something which still astounds me every time I walk into one.
We came to the church with a single purpose, however, and since we were cutting it so close to the end of the day, the lovely man working there let us inside without charging us the standard 50p for students. It was inside the chancel that I got to see what I really came to Stratford for: the grave of Shakespeare (I seem to travel a lot to see headstones, don’t I?). It was here that he was baptised in 1564, and here that he was buried in 1616, eventually surrounded on both sides by his wife, his daughter, his son-in-law, and his grandson-in-law. I don’t really have any words for the experience, so I don’t think I will even attempt any.
you can’t see the entirety of his epitaph that they’ve copied up behind the grave, but it says:
“GOOD FRIEND FOR JESUS SAKE FORBEARE TO
DIGG THE DUST ENCLOASED HEARE.
BLEST BE YE MAN YT SPARES THES STONES AND
CURST BE HE YT MOVES MY BONES”
After only a few minutes, the church was closing, so we got shooed out by the staff. I had accomplished my biggest goal for the day and we didn’t really have any other plans for the remainder of the evening. The church sits right on the river Avon, which we wandered along for a while; we saw the Swan Theatre, which houses the Royal Shakespeare Company and is currently under heavy construction, and we wandered through a brass rubbing establishment and watched the swans on the river.
A little further up and across the river was the Shakespeare Memorial, a large statue of the Bard himself surrounded by smaller statues of four of his most famous characters: Hamlet, Lady Macbeth, Falstaff, and Prince Hal. I think at this point of the day, my Shakespeare Statue Tally had hit about 6 or 7, so there was no reason to not enjoy another one.
someone, as well as some birds, had decorated the Bard.
you decide which one is the statue.
Since we were by the river, we spent another twenty minutes or so having our minds blown by how beautiful the swans of Stratford are, and I almost hyperventilated when we saw the absolute most amazing dog I have ever seen in my 20 years of being a dog lover. We were crossing a bridge over the river and saw the most adorable golden retriever, WEARING A HAT AND CARRYING HIS OWN LEASH IN HIS MOUTH, trotting along happily behind his owner. Words don’t even do justice; I’m pretty sure this dog knew what he was doing in his life more than I do, though that may not be hard to accomplish. On the whole, Manuel and I noticed that dogs in Stratford are better than dogs anywhere else. Every dog we saw that day (which was a lot) was fluffy, happy, and generally more amazing than any we have ever seen. I don’t know what the dog breeders are putting in the water, but it’s working.
If all this talk about swans and dogs is not making Stratford-Upon-Avon seem ridiculously quaint enough, the next thing Manuel and I did was go to, that’s right, the Stratford Butterfly Farm, which I’ll have you know is the largest in the UK. I was pretty sure I was in heaven when I stepped inside — birds and butterflies and waterfalls and koi and plants and warmth and general beauty and loveliness. The butterflies were so beautiful and fearless, landing on my legs or my head and not minding my movements one bit. It was so fun and peaceful.
Again, we got shooed out when they were closing, and as we wandered back up the main roads of Stratford toward the city centre, we found that basically everything in Stratford closes at 5:00. Luckily, the sweet shop was still open, and we grabbed a bag of chocolate covered peanuts before heading to a pub for dinner. The 400 year old building, The Garrick Inn, was named after — who else? — a Shakespearean actor who organised the Shakespeare Jubilee in the mid-1700s.
Afterward, since we still had time to kill before our train left, we walked the mile and a half or so to Anne Hathaway’s cottage, one of the Shakespeare properties we hadn’t been able to see. If I by some chance go back to Stratford sometime I would love to go on the grounds, though, because from the map in front it looks like there’s a lot of interesting things to see on the grounds. I tried to take pictures of the cottage, but it was pretty worthless in the dark.
In any case, it was a lovely night walk through Stratford. There was a light rain and the city was absolutely silent. I didn’t know it was possible for a city, even such a small one, to be so peaceful and calm, but it was. I think I would quite enjoy living there, for at least some time. There are so many places I would love to live at different times in my life. I think Stratford would be a wonderful place to live for maybe a year or so. It’s in the country, but it’s enough of a city that you wouldn’t be completely isolated. It would be wonderful to have a year or so of a slow, peaceful life to hole up in a flat and do a lot of reading, to wander along the river and feed the swans, and to still be able to catch some amazing theatre by the RSC. Eventually I’m sure I would want to go somewhere else, but I find that I can easily imagine myself living in a variety of places. Maybe I could work at the sweet shop across the street from Shakespeare’s birthplace. These are the kinds of things I think about.
Even after we wandered back from Anne Hathaway’s cottage, we still had a bit of time to kill, so we popped into another pub close to the train station and took a load off for a half hour or so while Manuel tried another local beer (he is making his way through all the British beers) and we waited for the train back to Birmingham.
All in all, I had a wonderful day and I have decided to live in Stratford-Upon-Avon so I can get a beautiful dog and go to church at Shakespeare’s Church and be able to walk the streets at night without hearing a single sound. I feel like I just spent this whole entry talking more about the town than about Shakespeare specifically; the city is real, but the fact that I walked in the steps of Shakespeare still does not feel real. Though 400 years and modern technology have radically altered the city as Shakespeare knew it, I can still see where he got his inspiration. Maybe it would give me some as well.
P.S. this building in Birmingham tripped me out and I had to take a picture on the way home.
P.P.S. I found Arthur Weasley on the tube ride home from Euston Station.
