Stratford-Upon-Avon

A visit to Stratford that was simultaneously both completely spontaneous and several months in the planning.

This time last year we were in Stratford to see "A Christmas Carol", and we combined that with some Christmas shopping.  At the time we acknowledged how much we enjoyed walking around a smaller and quieter shopping centre for a change.

Some months ago the RSC announced that this year's festive production would be The Boy in the Dress, which neither for us felt drawn to; however, the attraction of a pre-Christmas shopping trip still remained.  Accordingly, we decided that we would, uncharacteristically, leave the planning of any such trip until the last minute, which would ensure that we would be able to take advantage of any late-breaking hotel deals, and not run the risk of booking something only to find that seasonal coughs or colds prevented us from going.

And so it was that, with only 24 hours notice, we booked one bargain night at The Arden Hotel and packed a couple of small bags.

With the desperately disappointing but almost entirely expected general election results all over the news, we woke on the Friday morning even more grateful that we had something nice to look forward to.  A straightforward run to Stratford.

The rooms at The Arden are all named after trees, and laid out alphabetically:

Home for the next 24 hours:

Amanda seemed quite excited to be away:

Your correspondent affected a somewhat more laid-back demeanour:

A quick freshen up and then out  for a walk round the town and to pick up some stocking-fillers.  Firstly, over the road to the "almost immediately adjacent" Royal Shakespeare Theatre and its associated shop.  This (genuine but decommissioned) telephone box was filled to capacity with footballs all emblazoned with "The Boy in the Skirt" as a form of advertising:

The view along Henley Street:

That rarest of things - a photograph of Shakespeare's birthplace without any tourists in view:

This shop stocks nothing but Christmas-related paraphernalia 365 days a year:

We knew from experience that the Christmas 'tree' would look much better in the dark:

Presents and cards purchased, we returned to the hotel for a short rest, and then out again to Edward Moon for dinner.

Not our usual table, but still one that gave us a reasonable view of what was going on:

The House Burger and chips, and panroasted lamb, mashed potatoes, minted redcurrant pan gravy and vegetables; I shall insult no-one's intelligence by asking you to guess whose was which:

After this and sweets we were both happy bunnies:

Out into the fresh night air for a further perambulation:

Back to the hotel, where the news continued to depress, before a good night's sleep provided some respite.

The next morning, and checking on the weather:

Down to breakfast:

The Royal Shakespeare Theatre across the road:

The hi-vis vests in the distance were worn by Saturday morning runners tracing the route of the river through the town:

A final walk round the town.

There is something slightly old-fashioned, cramped and steamy about the town centre branch of Costa, which means that I find it the perfect place for a pre-Christmas beverage and a spot of people-watching, reminding me as it does of too many after-school hours spent sitting in a coffee bar discussing what was wrong with the world and how we were going to change it.

Back to the car and time to head home - significantly more relaxed than we had any right to feel after only 24 hours away and given the state that the country was now in: