The view was beautiful: a quiet river, large shady trees, seagulls of all descriptions, and best of all a theatre, framed on one side of the river bank. The skies were of course overcast and it was drizzling slightly but that didn’t seem to matter. For the first time since we arrived in Birmingham we were actually experiencing a little bit of English history and we were loving it.
We were in Stratford-upon-Avon, famed as the birthplace (and burial place) of William Shakespeare. Unlike most who have gone through the perils of Canadian high school English, I loved Shakespeare and therefore was happy to be in a place that honoured his legacy even if the honouring went a little to far sometimes (I mean honestly, what does Shakespeare have to do with a McDonald’s?). Stratford also holds a special place in our hearts because a stroll along the banks of the River Avon in Stratford, Ontario was the last stop I planned before proposing to Jenn on the side of highway #8. I was amazed too as I gazed out on Shakespeare’s city just how much the Canadian Stratford looked like this one. Having stood on the cliffs of the English Scarborough and missing the links to my home town and having walked through both Londons, I was surprised to find that a Canadian place actually looked like its English namesake.
Of course while in Stratford we went to see the Shakespearean sites. Shakespeare’s birthplace was a hub of tourist activity. The attached museum which detailed Willy’s most influential life did a great deal to dispel a lot of the rampant Shakespearean myths -- Like for instance the myth that he hated his wife because he gave her the second best bed in the house. Since the best bed would have been reserved for guests, Shakespeare was in fact giving her the bed they would have slept in together. The house itself was actually rather large for the time period a reminder that although Shakespeare came from humble beginnings in Stratford, they weren’t that humble. The most enjoyable part of the site however, may well have been the elaborate gardens attached to the house where most fruit trees, flowers, and herbs were labeled and in which Jenn and I spent an enjoyable twenty minutes. Of course no visit to a historic site could be complete without a visit to the gift shop to browse the countless overpriced and extremely useless nic-nacs.
Besides Shakespeare’s birthplace, we also visited the historic church in which he was buried. Although the burial itself isn’t overly thrilling (it’s just a plaque on the floor), the church itself was beautiful and we were serenaded as we toured by the church choir which was practicing for the service the next day. The other Shakespearean sites we declined to visit on the grounds that neither of us really cared where Shakespeare’s granddaughter happened to live as it probably made little or no impact on his life or more importantly, his writing.
We did find time however to thoroughly explore several of Stratford’s other beautiful amenities before catching the train back to the city including the lovely river and canal side walks and a wonderful butterfly farm that was worth every penny of the five pound admission price. The farm was a large greenhouse with the temperature and moisture content of a tropical rainforest and it was simply filled with wonderfully exotic butterflies. In addition to these winged beauties there were also exotic trees, caterpillars (of course), caged spiders, dangerous insects, tropical birds and even three iguanas that roamed the tree top heights of the dome. It reminded me of a miniature version of a zoo and left me feeling that same sense of awe I always experience when witnessing the wonders of nature.
Stratford was everything we thought it would be. It was beautiful, historic, and all wonderfully English. Despite being unable to see a play, when it was time to leave, we were still happy. We were happier still later that night at the pub when we witnessed England’s thrilling semi-final victory over France at the World Cup of Rugby. In the span of one day we had seen both England’s historic past and modern heroes honoured in their own uniquely English ways. Finally, after many weeks of waiting, we were experiencing what we mover here for, and I for one couldn’t have been happier.
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