A Grand Day Out

We do like Stratford-upon-Avon, we really do. In fact, we like the whole swathe of middle England that stretches between Oxford and Birmingham like a bumpy green blanket. It feels like you are being hugged by gentle hills. It feels like coming home. There is a point along the M40 when the motorway cuts through a hill and the countryside opens up before you and this is the point when Andy and I both go 'Aaaahhhh!' and we know we've arrived and it's only a short distance up the motorway before we can drop off and take the scenic route to Stratford, through Banbury and in and out of a string of little villages that punctuate the lanes like freshwater pearls, each with their own character and charm.

We arrive in Stratford to just-right sunny weather and after checking into the hotel (The Swan's Nest - we always stay here because it is right by the river and a five minute walk from the theatre), we went to find Andy's parents who were just finishing their lunch in a tea-shop in the middle of the town. We hadn't eaten so it was back to the river to the Baguette Barge, which is a canal boat that sells freshly-made baguettes, sandwiches, cakes, crisps and drinks. We like the Baguette Barge. You place your order with the lady on the top deck and then magically, a pair of hands appears from the bottom deck bearing your baguette/sandwich. It got us thinking about other modes of transport one could sell food from. The Toastie Tandem. The Sandwich Cycle. The Bagel Bus. The possibilities were endless. Well almost.

Sitting in the sun by the river at the canal boat yard munching a baguette, watching the many ducks, swans and geese going about their very important business, finishing off with an ice-cream. Marvellous.

And the bear didn't let me down either. I know I wanted a real bear, or failing that a man in bear costume in the performance of A Winter's Tale and neither of those materialised. But the twelve foot high bear puppet which did appear with a bang and a roar and a chaos that made the audience fair squeal with excitement more than compensated.

'GGGGRRRRRAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!' went the bear. 'AAAAAARRGHHHHHH!!!!' went Antigonus as he was dragged to his death. It was very exciting! The whole production was well executed in the brilliantly quirky way that is unique to English theatre. I have to say though, that I think A Winter's Tale is one of Shakespeare's weaker plays (in my humble opinion, sorry Mr Shakespeare sir, but even you, your great Bardness, must have cringed a bit when you saw the practical realisation of your written word come to life for the first time in this dramatic effort). We've seen RSC productions of nearly half of Shakespeare's plays now, and this one comes in near the bottom of the ratings table for me. But it was theatre, nonetheless, which is always good to experience.

This morning we went for another ramble across the river before making the journey back to Kent. More just-right sunshine. More thinking how great this most English of English towns is, with its massive hanging baskets and window boxes exploding colour everywhere, its embracing of visitors from all over the world who have been drawn to its Tudor streets all for the common cause of loving Shakepeare, its ducks, geese and swans making their own dawn chorus to greet the new day.

Stratford-upon-Avon always brings a smile to my face and a warm glow to my heart.

Yes, we like this place. We like it very much indeed.