Our group was split up to stay in several different places, and I was assigned to a cute little bed and breakfast called Linhill.
However, some of us (including me) ended up next door in a B&B called Avoncot, because the two were both owned by a lovely older gentleman and his wife. I've decided that staying at a bed and breakfast is a quintessential British thing to do, and that everyone who comes here must do it at least once. It was lovely.
My room was on the third floor (up two flights of a rickety narrow staircase that I was sure I was going to fall on at some point in time) with a beautiful view of the town.
P.S. I love how they name everything here. Numbers are way too boring, obviously. :)
Oh yes--there was a view of the laundry as well.
Walking the streets of Stratford was glorious. You could get all the way down the street without walking through a cloud of cigarette smoke, and cars actually stopped for you to cross the street. In London the drivers act very annoyed if you're in their way, and if you're in the street when they're coming you'd better get out of the way quick, 'cuz they ain't slowing down. Life goes a little slower in Stratford upon Avon. It was a refreshing change of pace.
The Royal Shakespeare Company is based in Stratford upon Avon, so of course this meant that we had to go to a couple of plays while we were there. In tribute to Stratford's favorite son, we saw Julius Caesar on Tuesday night and Richard III on Wednesday night. And on Tuesday we got the grand tour of the theatre, up through the lighting booth and costume areas and everything.
This is the stage floor of the old theatre where many of the great Shakespearean actors performed. And I stood there and recited the first few lines of Hamlet's famous soliloquy. Yep, I was in the company of the greats there, people. My Shakespeare recitation skills are put to use yet again!
The view from the theatre was glorious. Have I ever mentioned that I love big picture windows? Because I do. Can you see why?
Swans in the river
Naturally, after the tour of the theatre we were starving to death (it seems I'm starving a lot these days--maybe it's all that walking) so we went to the Windmill Pub, housed in a building that dates from the 16th century. I ordered the Gammon Steak, which is apparently standard pub fare. I didn't really know what I was ordering, but this is what I got:
Bacon, people. This is bacon. A big slab of some of the best bacon you've ever tasted in your life. It was good. And then I got the Kentish Bramley Apple Lattice for dessert. Oh my heavens to betsy--one of the best things I've had here. I inhaled it before I even thought to take a picture. Sorry about that.
I could definitely see why Shakespeare kept coming back to this place.
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