Stranded in Stratford…

Yesterday we took a class trip (in the “fifth-grade class trip” sense of the action) to Stratford. This means that the Art and English kids boarded a bus at 9 am, professors in tow, and journeyed three hours from the cosmopolitan splendors of London to the quaint and historically preserved countryside of Stratford. Before I unleash my unquenchable cynicism, let me preface this post by saying that Stratford is a beautiful town with delicious candy stores and cute pubs. Ok, now that that’s over, let me give it to you straight. Stratford would be fun for two hours tops; unfortunately, we had nine hours there. Stratford is like Williamsburg with all the pretend houses, people and tourist traps. We were let loose in this historical playground, given 35 quid to keep out of trouble, to feed ourselves for the day and to please, please, please see where Shakespeare may or may not have grown up. It was hysterical- 30 college kids in this tiny town with NOTHING to do. So, being the elitist Colgate students we are, we improvised and did bloody well for ourselves and I mean, misery loves company so this was a fantastic bonding experience…

First stop: lunch! This killed about an hour and the food was good too. I had a baked potato with chili. It was tough choosing between the decadence of the traditional English menu. Good thing I like potato!

Second stop: Shakespeare’s Birth Museum. Yawn. We walked into an old house with pictures of pictures of the main man, Willly S. It was so authentic and inspiring I knelt down, kissed the floor and prayed to Shakespeare’s ghost to grant me with the gift of free flowing poetry. Slash the five of us moseyed through his little house and then left feeling like cultural sellouts but with greater knowledge of the meaning of the word “facsimile”.

Third stop: Anne Hathaway’s Tea Room. This cute little teahouse is situated in a 17th century Tudor house! We had tea with scones and my friends really got to appreciate how messy I can be! We’re talking milk spills, crumbs and tea in the hair. Inspired to act like good little children, we brushed up on our manors by drinking pinky up and talking in faux British accents.

Fourth stop: The Harvard House. The Harvard House is a museum dedicated to pewter. Seriously. Pewter! It is a collection of pewter cutlery, dishes and old curators. It is probably the worst place in the world, therefore, the most fun place we visited. I don’t think I have ever laughed so hard. John and Katy made fantastic pewter stamps- an activity designed for the “younger pewter enthusiasts” and Noah asked the curator the most absurd questions ever which means I was weeping with laughter in the corner. It was an educational experience and I’m very proud to report that I learned why pewter is shiny and resilient. Please forward any questions you may have on this sensational alloy to me.

Fifth stop: Gray Gable Pub. This pub, one of the oldest pubs in the world, was awesome! I tried mulled wine- warmed red wine with cinnamon, orange slices and lots of spices. I think the only way to describe this drink is cozy. We sat at this pub for a long time just talking. Such great atmosphere.

Then we braved the cold weather and saw where Shakespeare may have died. I have nothing to report on this.

Back to the pub for dinner.

Then off to see Henry the V, Shakespeare’s 3 ½ hour epic play at the Swan Theater. The first act was “dream like” cough. And the second act was “refreshing”.
I think that sums it up nicely.

We arrived in London a little after two am. The idea of my bed has never seemed so marvelous and London so promising. It’s good to be back in my home, my city bustling with commotion and activity. On the bus ride home, gliding through the jungle of buildings with my face pressed against the glass, I’m content, with out my ipod or book, to just watch London unfold around me...