Straford-Upon-Avon: November, 2005

The sun had set by the time we arrived at the quaint town that was the home of Shakespeare.

On the way into town we found the Applegarth, an attractive Bed & Breakfast advertising rates of 30 pounds per person.

We quickly settled in and walked into the brisk evening air in search of a restaurant with a pub-like atmosphere without smoke.

We found the White Swan, which seemed perfect, with a welcoming fire roaring in the hearth, but the lack of diners made us leery, so we wandered around town a bit more searching for another possibility.

At the same time, we looked for Shakespeare's birthplace, which we soon found.

Eventually we returned to the White Swan, where we learned that dinner wouldn't be served until 6:00.  That explained why no customers were present at 5:15.

We claimed the best seats in the house and bought some drinks from the bar area.  Tipping a pint of Guiness at the solid wooden table, under the timbered roof, felt exactly how England should feel.

Before long, we were served a delicious meal.

Fish and chips seem to be a good choice most places in England, and the White Swan's version featured a large white fillet fried to perfection.

After dinner, we walked around, stopping into a great book store near the Avon River where we bought several souvenirs, including a book of short story versions of Shakespeare's works and Ringo's coffee table book of postcards from other Beatles.

In the morning, we ate the home cooked breakfast at the Applegarth, which was filling but didn't knock our socks off.

We took a morning stroll by the scenic Avon, laughing about seagulls walking on frozen areas of the water.

We drove out to Anne Hathaway's Cottage, arriving before it opened.

Fortunately, the souvenir shop had hot chocolate, so we wandered around the bucolic countryside sipping our belly warmers.

Anne Hathaway was, contrary to what you may believe based on "Shakespeare in Love," Shakespeare's wife.

The nicely preserved little thatched roof house is where Anne grew up as part of an affluent family.

Touring her house gives insights into what life was like just a few hundred years ago.

It's fun, for example, hearing about how the youngest son would have to sit in the fireplace turning the meat on a spit to keep it from burning.

The boy would mercifully be covered in damp sheets periodically to cool him down.

For our family, that became the basis of inside jokes about variations of circumstances involving Shakespeare's youngest son.

The cottage is a hobbled collection of primitive, cramped rooms with low ceilings.

Bacon hanging by the fireplace indicated guests would be welcome for dinner on any given evening.

A straight backed bench barely deep enough for a butt to fit on would have been the courting area for Shakespeare and Anne.

It was all part of a hard life of week-to-week subsitence, even for relatively weatlhy familes, compared to what Americans take for granted today.

For any of you who believe Shakespeare was a starving artist, you may be interested to learn that he became a millionaire (in pounds) during his lifetime based on his success as a playwrite, and that was when a pound would buy several times as many pints as the one Guiness that 3.50 pounds would buy in the White Swan today.