Stratford-Upon-Avon

This week our entire program went to Stratford-Upon-Avon to see the birthplace of that one famous guy, who may be the cause of this whole program and my being in London, that Shakespeare dude.

We went to see every farm, garden, house, and piece of land connected to him and his life (or his daughters, or his mother's). It was intense and exhaustive, but I made it through the Shakespeare mania.

This house is pretty much the format of every thing we went to see. A large, beautiful garden, and an old school thatched-roof house with some old furniture and fake bread inside.

But before we went there we stopped my Coventry Cathedral, which has been a religious site since the 1100's. It has been 3 different cathedrals, and was bombed in WWII and they kept the outside standing, and simply built a new one on the inside of the shell.

There was a lot of modern art inside, and I really loved their stained glass window.

Next we went to Kenilworth Castle. It was the home of some famous guy in Queen Elizabeth's court, the one she actually liked and wanted to marry, but luckily didn't.

This was my favorite part.

I turned a corner, and who should be there but Robin Hood? Vastly appropriate.

Here is the inside. Pretty cool huh?

The British really like their gardens, and even offer books about it in the Kenilworth museum.

Then we made our way to Ann Hathaway's home. We saw the chair she and Shakespeare might have sat in. It's all very exciting.

Here is a man with an interesting shirt. I suppose his wife was glad enough to have him along so she'd take him in what ever form he came in. Look. She's so excited ("Oh look! Plants Shakespeare might have had, enjoyed, or even seen! Let's take a picture.") He's not much of a gardener, ("Yup. That one's purple.")

So Robin Hood & Gang donated this bench. They must like Shakespeare.

The Old English people were rather lax when it came to building homes. Nothing was straight, even, or even similar. Beams were whatever length suited the day, every floor slanted sharply (missing pocket change? Look to the southern wall), doors could be specific to the one person who made them. No hallways (room --> room --> room) to which our guide said, "You saw something *shrug* you saw something. But the curtains were for a bit of privacy. You'd still hear it though." (us: MAKE HIM STOP! MAKE HIM STOP!).

This is the Holy Trinity Church where Shakespeare is buried. Pretty.

The last day we went to Blenheim Palace, which was a much more appropriate version of Versailles, except for this odd creature:

We are all curious as to why anyone would choose a harpy statue. "Oh please. Apollo? Again?! I'd prefer something much more original. And creepy. Yes a harpy will do quite nicely."

A lake in their garden. On our way here we found a tree someone had given to the Duke in honor of something significant. We thought it rather amusing. "Oh yes, thank you. I do love a good tree, and my yard is somewhat sparse. This will do just wonderfully."

The last bit of our trip was spent in Oxford. We went to the Natural History Museum (those are the most entertaining).

Behold giant spider crab that I attempted to pet. He was not kind.

I like mimicking animals' faces, ok? Don't judge me and my three chins. And don't stare, either.

Oh, this is a kind of stork. I call him Darrel.

This is a bad picture of some shrunken heads. I would have gotten a better one, but it was 4:28 and the guard was yelling, "The museum is now closed!" also meant as, "get the hell out of this building so I can go home." But apparently the shrinking of enemy heads was in practice up until 1960. At least that's what our picture of the caption says.