Sept 6-7 Conwy to Stratford on Avon
Today Debbie tripped over a pigeon. It’s hard to say who was the more surprised. Soon thereafter, I was accosted by a cranky swan with a “None shall pass” attitude. We’re off to a rocky start with the birdlife of Stratford.
The day started in a much different locale. We left our B & B in Caernarfon, which had been a less than tropical place, and made our way further up the Welsh coast to the castle town of Conwy, where we had breakfast. Conwy is another picture post card kind of place, but we discovered that they more or less roll up the sidewalks once September hits. A lot of the businesses were closed.
This was the first day I have been able to spell Don off for driving responsibilities as I’ve been a bit under the weather. By now I’ve shared my germs with everyone, so everybody’s a patient. It occurred to me that the last Weezer tour through the UK probably sold a lot more tickets than this one.
I’ve now been granted by my travel mates a status of “less grumpy than before”, but have still not reached the lofty goal of “cheerful enough for public consumption”. I believe that happens when I stop comparing every shopkeeper and waitress to the Vicar of Dibley’s googly-eyed friend.
Today’s drive was a lengthy one that had us skirting the metropolises of Manchester and Birmingham. We scuttled an original plan to go into Birmingham because our GPS had inside information on a lot of highway collisions and general traffic mayhem, and we just wanted to reach our destination. Much to our surprise, when we climbed out of the car in Stratford, it was sunny and pretty darned hot. Don and I were grateful for the chance to change into shorts, and the four of us set off to explore Stratford-upon-Avon (and torment the birds). Our wandering brought us to the Holy Trinity Church which houses the gravesite of William Shakespeare. It cost 5 pounds to access the area where the actual grave is situated, so only Bev and I ponied up for the experience. From what we could tell, it seems like he’s still there.
Our added bonus for our presence in that portion of church was to be accosted by a portly volunteer who looked a bit like Alfred Hitchcock and sounded like a cartoon character that I can’t quite put my finger on yet. This man was a fountainhead of Shakespearean fun facts, and while I think Bev was OK with it, my eyes were soon darting about looking for the nearest exit. I was too slow. He managed to segue from the dates of Shakespeare’s accomplishments to the recent glorious experience he’d had listening to a recitation of a poem by JRR Tolkien. “Would you like me to recite it for you, briefly?”, he asked with an icy stare that suggested it was not a question. If brief was a descriptor for what followed, I would be surprised. Still, I survived the experience such that I am able to relate the story, and for that I should be grateful.
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The very next day …….
Day two in Stratford started a lot differently than day one ended. Our sunny blue skies had been replaced by drizzling rain. It was a lovely day for a drive to the hospital, and so we did. Don has been coveting my antibiotics for a few days now, and a visit to emergency was the only way for him to get his own stash. Hopefully now he’ll be on the mend, as well.
We returned to Stratford in the early afternoon and had a leisurely wander through town and along the River Avon, taking in the historical architecture, numerous statues, Shakespeare’s birthplace, and minstrels in the park. We had an early dinner at the 425 year old Windmill Inn (the previous night we dined at the much newer (1738) Dirty Duck Pub). Now we’re back in the room for an early night because tomorrow is expected to be a very full day!
The day started in a much different locale. We left our B & B in Caernarfon, which had been a less than tropical place, and made our way further up the Welsh coast to the castle town of Conwy, where we had breakfast. Conwy is another picture post card kind of place, but we discovered that they more or less roll up the sidewalks once September hits. A lot of the businesses were closed.
This was the first day I have been able to spell Don off for driving responsibilities as I’ve been a bit under the weather. By now I’ve shared my germs with everyone, so everybody’s a patient. It occurred to me that the last Weezer tour through the UK probably sold a lot more tickets than this one.
I’ve now been granted by my travel mates a status of “less grumpy than before”, but have still not reached the lofty goal of “cheerful enough for public consumption”. I believe that happens when I stop comparing every shopkeeper and waitress to the Vicar of Dibley’s googly-eyed friend.
Today’s drive was a lengthy one that had us skirting the metropolises of Manchester and Birmingham. We scuttled an original plan to go into Birmingham because our GPS had inside information on a lot of highway collisions and general traffic mayhem, and we just wanted to reach our destination. Much to our surprise, when we climbed out of the car in Stratford, it was sunny and pretty darned hot. Don and I were grateful for the chance to change into shorts, and the four of us set off to explore Stratford-upon-Avon (and torment the birds). Our wandering brought us to the Holy Trinity Church which houses the gravesite of William Shakespeare. It cost 5 pounds to access the area where the actual grave is situated, so only Bev and I ponied up for the experience. From what we could tell, it seems like he’s still there.
Our added bonus for our presence in that portion of church was to be accosted by a portly volunteer who looked a bit like Alfred Hitchcock and sounded like a cartoon character that I can’t quite put my finger on yet. This man was a fountainhead of Shakespearean fun facts, and while I think Bev was OK with it, my eyes were soon darting about looking for the nearest exit. I was too slow. He managed to segue from the dates of Shakespeare’s accomplishments to the recent glorious experience he’d had listening to a recitation of a poem by JRR Tolkien. “Would you like me to recite it for you, briefly?”, he asked with an icy stare that suggested it was not a question. If brief was a descriptor for what followed, I would be surprised. Still, I survived the experience such that I am able to relate the story, and for that I should be grateful.
***************************
The very next day …….
Day two in Stratford started a lot differently than day one ended. Our sunny blue skies had been replaced by drizzling rain. It was a lovely day for a drive to the hospital, and so we did. Don has been coveting my antibiotics for a few days now, and a visit to emergency was the only way for him to get his own stash. Hopefully now he’ll be on the mend, as well.
We returned to Stratford in the early afternoon and had a leisurely wander through town and along the River Avon, taking in the historical architecture, numerous statues, Shakespeare’s birthplace, and minstrels in the park. We had an early dinner at the 425 year old Windmill Inn (the previous night we dined at the much newer (1738) Dirty Duck Pub). Now we’re back in the room for an early night because tomorrow is expected to be a very full day!
This fine knight welcomed us to Conwy
Conwy Castle, Wales
The drawbridge is now made of steel
Beautiful harbour of Conwy
On to Stratford-on-Avon
Holy Trinity Church, Stratford on Avon
Baptismal and burial site for William Shakespeare
This church has stood on this site for almost 1000 years. The stained glass is a replacement as Henry VIII looted all the good stuff of value during his reign
Shakespeare’s grave
Then it was on to walk along the Avon
25C and shorts!
Dinner at the Black Swan Pub (renamed the Dirty Duck by soldiers in WW2) established 1738
2sides of the same sign😉
Statue of Shakespeare done by Lord Ronald Gower in 1888.
It is surrounded by 4 of Shakespeare’s most famous characters.
Pay the toll or suffer the consequences!
Debbie & Chris at Shakespeare’s birthplace
Yet another “you-know-who” statue in Stratford on Avon
The most amazing buildings even though they were
invented prior to the square!
Whimsical characters everywhere
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