Quiet Dream: Stratford Upon Avon

I wrote on facialbook "Some dreams are Quiet."

It's true.  There are dreams I've had for so many years that I've told no one- mostly because they are no one else's business.  Yes, believe it or not, despite baring my soul in this blog, I am a private person.

One of those Dreams is one that everyone now knows- the fact that I was born female inside.  Transgender.  I hid that from the world for 47 years.  It was the untouchable Dream.  I dared not even think about it: Womanhood.

Sign at the Train Station

I can't remember exactly when I first saw or read one of William Shakespeare's plays.  I knew ABOUT him from a very young age, but I think it was junior high school that I first saw one of the plays.  It was a movie:  Romeo and Juliet, directed by Franco Zeffirelli.  Released in 1968.  It was the first time any of his writings made sense to me.  I was smitten.


Even then, I wanted to write, and I recognized the work of a Master.  I saw that Shakespeare wrote about eternal truths- all I had to do was decipher how he coded it within his work.  I don't mean the language- watch a Shakespearean play or movie, and you'll pick up the language in five minutes.  I mean who was smart enough to rarely come out and SAY things.  He hid his Truths, couched in pretty iambic pentameter and metaphor.

‘Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.’
(Macbeth Act 5, Scene 5)

At Penn State, one of the last classes I took before student teaching was English 444: Shakespeare.  We covered one play a week.  After the first week, I discovered that Pattee library had VHS tapes of every Shakespearean play by the Royal Shakespeare Company.  I told only a few classmates- by inviting them to my apartment for Monday night viewings and drinking.  We were all English education majors, and had Tuesdays off (we were student teaching all day Thursday.)  We drank like college students while watching the play, and played drinking games as we discussed it afterwards.  We all did VERY well in that class!  That class is where my love and admiration for the man really gelled.  I still have the textbook: the Riverside Shakespeare.  My notes decorate the margins.

I dreamed that one day, maybe, I would stand in his presence- at his grave.  I would be able to pay my respects to the Bard, whose words taught me and challenged me.  A pipe dream.  Fool's errand.  It would never come true.

Just like my womanhood.

‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks’
(Hamlet Act 3, Scene 2)

Waiting for the Wrong Train.  Oops.

After two rainy gloomy days in London, I was ready for a change.  The sun was shining as I boarded a train for Stratford Upon Avon.  I was still not quite awake when I arrived, so I boarded the train BEFORE the one I was due to take.  Oops.  The woman checking the tickets aboard the train was young, and had a jade colored mohawk.  Seriously.  She made her rounds, and came back to chat.  I was the only one in the carriage.  Her solution to the wrong train dilemma was to get off the train at a certain stop, then boarding the next train to Stratford.  Sounds fair.  We had a nice talk.  She was very bright.

I did what she asked, and disembarked at the given station, where I waited maybe ten minutes for my proper train.

Waiting

I arrived at Stratford Upon Avon on time (for the second train.)  I walked past a construction site and down a couple of blocks.  There were many teens with backpacks, some in uniform- going to school I assume.  Eventually, I reached the city "square" where I rested a moment- after all my bag, though on wheels, weighed 70 pounds!  I was standing next to the Old Thatch Tavern, which dated back to 1470, which means Shakespeare at least knew of it, if not drank there.  Across the street, was a large gothic looking clock called the American Fountain.  I turned right and walked the block to my hotel- the Hotel du Vin, and checked in.  The rooms have names, not numbers.  I was in the Geoff Merrill room.  As far as I can tell, the name refers to an Australian wine maker.

 ‘Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.’
(Macbeth Act 5, Scene 5)

The American Fountain

After dropping off my bags, I walked across the street to meet my companion for the day.  I've known about Dr. Amanda Prosser (BSc PhD CBiol) since chancing upon her videos one day.   They are brilliant- the one that really stuck home for me is HERE.  She has a very dry sense of humor.  Amanda is also a noted Ecotoxicologist.  In addition, she is a fellow sister of Vanity Club, which is how I connected with her.

I owe Amanda a LOT.  It's not an exaggeration to say that were it not for her, I would not be alive today.  That's all I can say about that.  In any case, I finally had the opportunity to thank her personally.

 ‘Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.’
(Twelfth Night Act 2, Scene 5)

Map of "downtown."

She arrived in her truck- camper, and with her she had Bailey, her five year old black lab.  Bailey was full of energy and very friendly, and, as I love dogs and miss mine, he received a LOT of attention from me.  We crossed a bridge over the River Avon, and parked the camper under a grove of trees.  It wasn't a hot day, but we wanted Bailey to be comfortable.  The camper was well ventilated with many windows, so I wasn't worried.  Amanda and I then walked back over a foot bridge into town, passing a wooden manual canal lock.  We watched it operate for a few minutes, as a tour boat was going through.  The work looked VERY hard, as the wood was heavy, then there was the water.

Operating the lock

From there, we walked around town a bit, chatting. We talked about her current work, and I talked about writing and such.  We eventually sat down to lunch at the Garrick Inn, which dates back to at least 1596, with parts of it dating back to the 14th century.  It's supposed to be haunted as well.

"How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes!" 
(As You Like It Act V, Scene II).

After a pleasant lunch (during which I watched a young guy at the bar guzzle six pints) we walked across the street to Shakespeare's "New Place," which wasn't there, as it had been torn down in 1759.  It was at this location where he wrote his later plays, including the Tempest.  Instead of a house, there is a formal garden, as well as a portion of Shakespeare's surviving garden.  There are displays, statues, and educational programs there.  They also did some archeology there, and found pottery shards and broken pipes, among other things.  We walked among the sculptures and garden for a bit, then went into the small museum, which exited through the gift shop (as always.)

This Mulberry Tree supposedly was grown from a clipping from a tree Shakespeare planted himself.

Amanda seated in a replica of Shakespeare's chair.

From there, Amanda and I walked down narrow streets, past the Royal Shakespeare Company, to Holy Trinity Church, built in 1210.  We walked down the avenue of lime trees, through the ancient churchyard.  Aside from meeting Amanda, this site was the reason I stopped in Stratford Upon Avon.

"Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings".
(Julius Caesar Act I, Scene II).

Welcome

Under the lime trees

Amanda at the entry arch

Holy Trinity Church has been in continuous operation (in three different buildings) for over 1000 years.  The interior of the church was incredible.  Before entering the Crossing, we paid our three pound donation each (actually, Amanda paid it, as I paid for lunch.)  We then entered the Sanctuary, where lay William Shakespeare and his family (in the Chancel.)

The Chancel and Altar

I could write pages upon pages about all the treasures and beauty in that area, but I'll forbear.  In the sanctuary and chancel are the Baptismal font where Shakespeare was baptized in 1564.  There is a chained Bible (under glass) printed in 1611, which means that the Bard would have seen it.

There, in the front of the Chancel, was buried the Poet- William Shakespeare.

I timidly walked up to the brass railing that kept tourists from the crypts and altar.  I was a little anxious- even afraid.  Would a bolt of lightning strike me, a pretender with words, for daring to be in the presence of the Master of the Language?  Silly, I know, but I thought it.

I gazed at the marker, carved into the flagstone.  A mirror behind it reflected the famous epitaph carved there, written by Shakespeare himself:

Good frend for Iesvs sake forebeare,

To digg the dvst encloased heare.

Bleste be Middle English the.svg man Middle English that.svg spares thes stones,

And cvrst be he Middle English that.svg moves my bones.

In modern spelling:

Good friend for Jesus sake forbear,

To dig the dust enclosed here.

Blessed be the man that spares these stones,

And cursed be he that moves my bones. 

Below that mirror was a plate showing the inscription, which was far easier to read.

The Grave of William Shakespeare

After maybe a minute, I took a few pictures.  I couldn't believe it- I was here!  I was standing at a place where I never thought I would.  After all the years of quiet wishing, I'd achieved a Dream.  For some, it might seem trivial.  For me, it was a Moment.  I fancy myself a writer- a good one.  (Please allow me some Pride.  Humor me.)  I play with words: "a creature of language."  I'd studied the Bard's words for most of my life.  I watched his plays, read his poetry, and puzzled over his riddles.

And there I was: a humble pilgrim at the site where, 402 years earlier, he was laid to rest at 52.  He was just one year older than I am now, and in his time changed the World.  Shakespeare wrote his first play in 1592, when he was only 28.  At that time, he was already a well-established with a great reputation.

What have I done in that time?

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind"
(A Midsummer Night's Dream Act I, Scene I).


I stood for a while before stepping aside, as I figured others wanted their moment (turns out I was wrong- there was no one else there, so after taking some pictures, I resumed my place before the grave.)

I find myself clutching and fumbling for words to describe the experience, how I felt, and what it meant to me.  Some "creature of language" I am.

Looking toward the back of the church.  Setting up something.

"He that dies pays all debts."
(The Tempest Act III. Scene II)

After a time, Amanda and I left the church, and headed back into town.  We agreed to go see Shakespeare's birthplace, which, unlike his "New Place," was still standing.  It was a bit of a walk, but we eventually arrived in mid afternoon.  Beer gardens were open all over the street, which was closed to traffic.  We entered the museum which is the entrance to the grounds (we'd bought the combo ticket with New Place,) and sat to watch a short film about the Bard's influence on today's culture (which included Homer Simpson doing Macbeth.)


The museum had some interesting artifacts, including a First Folio (the first time the Bard's plays were published.)  There was also the stone base of the cross that once stood in the village square.  It date from before Shakespeare's time, and it was something he definitely saw every day of his time in the town.

One of only 230 First Folios known to survive

The Cross base

"Some, Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps."
(Much Ado About Nothing Act III.  Scene I)

The house itself, though huge for its day, was rather small.  The current structure is actually two houses- one belonged to Shakespeare's sister.  Eventually, Shakespeare made it into an Inn, the Maidenhead, and so it remained until the 1700s.

While touring the house, we stood in the room where the Bard was born.  So it was that Amanda and I did his life in reverse- first his grave, then his birthplace. 

Shakespeare's Birthplace

Bard Born Here

After touring the birthplace, we walked back to the park where the truck waited.  On the way, we stopped at a market so Amanda could pick up some milk.  We let Bailey out to run around.  He quickly found an old ball which Amanda and I took turns throwing for him.  Amanda asked if I wanted some tea, which I gladly accepted.  We waited in her camper as she put the kettle on.  She explained how she makes tea (which I won't repeat) and the proper way to serve it.

Soon enough, tea was on.  We both took a cup and walked to a nearby pavilion, where we gazed over some football pitches and chatted.  We spoke of coming out, and our respective experiences.

View of the park during tea

Bailey awaits a throw

It was then a had a sudden revelation.  Tea time was NOT about the tea.  At all.  It was about taking time to rest, reflect, and appreciate the Moment.  As Amanda and I chatted, we watched children play, people walk by, and heard people play tennis nearby.  The sun headed toward late afternoon.  I didn't realize how tired I was.  I thought about the enormity of the time- where I was, and what I'd seen that day.  Amanda taught me an important lesson without saying a word.  She's clever like that.

"O God of battles! steel my soldiers' hearts; Possess them not with fear; take from them now The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers Pluck their hearts from them." 
(Henry V Act IV.  Scene I)

Amanda drove us back into town, where we easily found parking.  From there, she guided me to a Mediterranean restaurant called Mida.  I was so impressed!  The owner waited upon us as if we were family.  He was a Moroccan who spoke several languages and was quite a raconteur!  His wife was the chef.  She came to the table to offer us a sauce she'd just devised for the dish Amanda and I shared.  It was amazing!  The food was incredible.  Easily the best meal I had in the UK.  My phone was dead, so I couldn't take pictures.

After dinner, Amanda and I walked back to her truck, where we hugged goodbye.  I said goodbye to Bailey as well.  Amanda was such pleasant company for the day, and an amazing conversationalist.  I want to be her when I grow up.

After Amanda left, I went back to my room.  I was tired, but not sleepy.  There was a pub across the street, the Lamplighter, so I walked over to have a pint.

After a Long day

A Quiet pint

There  were a couple of locals discussing sports at a table near the door.  They were the only others in the pub.  A tv showed old 80s videos, which I sat and enjoyed.  After my pint, I went back to my room, and finally fell asleep.


Weeks later, I'm still in disbelief of that day.  I can't believe I saw what I saw- stood where I stood.  I can't believe I finally met Amanda, who I'd admired for years.

I suppose even Quiet dreams can come true sometimes.

"Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow." (Romeo & Juliet Act II, Scene II).


Next Stop:  Glasgow