Berlin and Beyond: Shakespeare and Castles

I spent my first couple of weeks here in the UK making up a list of places I wanted to visit in the country, aided by the very bulky Lonely Planet Great Britain I had brought with me. The list quickly grew to an intimidating length, and I started to panic, wondering how I could possibly a) afford to go to all of these places and b) manage to fit everything in within the seven-odd weeks I had left in the UK. It was causing me undue anxiety, but it took me a while to realise that this was my vacation, and there was no reason I should be feeling stressed out. It took me a while, but finally I realised that it was okay if I didn’t do all of the things on my list, that it was unlikely that Stonehenge or Canterbury or the white cliffs of Dover were going anywhere, and certainly this would not be my final trip to the UK.

So. I set about prioritising the places I wanted to visit. Bath, as I’ve mentioned in my previous post, was a must-see for me. It came down to a toss-up between Stratford-upon-Avon and Stonehenge/Salisbury. Shakespeare won out because I felt the need to take in some Culture, with a capital “c.” And so, I booked a B&B (the town is full of them--I think accommodation is the main industry there) and bought tickets to see a production of Hamlet, put on by the Royal Shakespeare Company.

I had high hopes for Stratford-upon-Avon. Bath was a Georgian city, and although stunning and lovely, I hadn’t yet seen any old medieval towns. I was, sadly, disappointed. Yes, there are lovely old medieval buildings in Stratford-upon-Avon--grand, crooked half-timbered homes. But mostly the city is bland, and distinctly lacking in character. Probably this has to do with the fact that there’s nothing really there, except for the Royal Shakespeare Company and a handful of old houses related to Shakespeare’s life in the town. The thing is, Stratford-upon-Avon has been a tourist trap for centuries, with people travelling from across the British Isles to see the hometown of the great bard. Once I accepted the fact that the essence of the place was exactly that--Shakespeare, and that’s about it--I was able to enjoy myself.

My B&B, on a street of B&Bs.

Stratford-upon-Avon.

The Avon!

Look closely. God Save the King, y'all.

I started to see Shakespeare in everything, including these favourites: a cartoon Shakespeare enjoying some soft-serve ice cream and a mosaic Shakespeare guarding the entrance to a bank building, today an HSBC.

The Shakespeare Birthplace Trust maintains five properties in Stratford-upon-Avon and the surrounding countryside that have direct connections to Shakespeare and his family. The home in which he was born is still standing. One room even still has the original stone floor--so you can, quite literally, walk where Shakespeare walked. Attached to this house is a small exhibit about Shakespeare’s life. Videos play in each room, and you’re funnelled through in this manner until the final room, where the star of the museum sits centrally in an alarmed glass case: a first folio of Shakespeare’s works. When first published, you could purchase it for a pound, then still quite a bit of money--but today, it would be worth millions upon millions upon millions.

The six hundred-odd year-old house in which Shakespeare was born!

Shakespeare's cradle? Well, no. But something like that, perhaps.

This is a much older window of the house, which was turned into an inn after the Shakespeare family sold it/lost it, etc. Remember what I said about Stratford-upon-Avon being a tourist destination for centuries? Lots of people, some of them famous in their own right, came to etch their names into this window. It now sits in the museum that's part of the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust.

In the garden behind the Shakespeare house.

The first folio.

You can also visit the house of Shakespeare’s daughter and her husband, who was a successful doctor in the town, and the house of his granddaughter and her husband--next to which is a plot of land where there once stood the house in which Shakespeare lived out the last years of his life. I also went to the small medieval church by the banks of the Avon, where Shakespeare is buried. That was actually quite emotive, standing in front of that grave. I was never a huge Shakespeare fan--I haven’t read too many of his plays beyond what we had to read in school, but I have always appreciated the impact he had on the development of the English language, and certainly the gravitas he holds as a playwright.

Hall's Croft, home to Shakespeare's daughter, Susanna, and her husband, Dr. John Hall.

Dining room. Enough wood?

From the back garden.

Shakespeare's granddaughter's house, plus the garden where his last house used to stand. It's sunken in because of previous excavations at the site.

The lovely garden.

Church of the Holy Trinity, where Shakespeare is buried.

Shakespeare's grave.

And, because one memorial is not enough, here's another one on the wall near the grave itself.

The peaceful riverside walk next to the church's graveyard. Shakespeare was able to be buried inside the church because he was on the church council, or something like that.

I only spent one night in Stratford-upon-Avon. Really, you could do it in a day trip, but I had tickets to see Hamlet, and needed to stay over. I enjoyed the play, although the actor who played Hamlet really played him as quite the pansy. It was a fairly traditional production of the play, although it was set in the 1930s, so all the characters were dressed accordingly. The lighting and sound effects were also quite good—they had the ghost of Hamlet’s father dressed in fencing clothes and would flash these bright fluorescent lights whenever he came on, while playing this eerie twilight-zone-esque music. And the stage was actually sitting on real dirt, so they really did bury Ophelia and dig up Yorrick’s skull.

The Royal Shakespeare Company's main theatre building in Stratford-upon-Avon.

View of the stage from my seat. The darker border around the stage is the dirt--later in the play they pulled up part of the stage to reveal more dirt.

The following morning, I went to visit Anne Hathaway’s cottage, about a twenty minute walk outside the town. Anne Hathway was Shakespeare’s wife, and you can visit the country cottage where she grew up. It’s mostly worth going to for it’s beautiful English garden.

Anne Hathaway's Cottage, from the garden. Now, it that's not an English garden, I don't know what is.

With the freedom of my rail pass, which offers unlimited rail travel for a select number of days, I decided on my way back to London to stop in Warwick, which was much more the little medieval town I had been expecting to find in Stratford-upon-Avon. There’s a grand old castle in Warwick, but it costs an unbelievable £30 to get in, so instead I paid £2 to get into a beautiful garden at the foot of the castle, which offered some great views.

Now that's what I call an old, English tea room. Rain and all.

Warwick.

Warwick Castle!

More of the castle.

Yes, that's a catapult!

In a bookstore the other week I saw a book titled something like London's 10,000 Lions. Well, this lion was in Warwick, not London, but it's true that there are a hell of a lot of lion statues in this country.