This may upset a lot of people, I may be inundated with disgruntled comments on publication but I have to make it clear from the start – I do not like Shakespear or even Shakespeare. His plays leave me cold and his sonnets stir me not. I know I am a plebian of the Arts. My partner Susan will tell you it takes a lot to get me to go to theatre, she has a fight to get me to accompany her (when I do go). Now, imagine my feeling when Susan says she has booked the hotels, guest houses for our 5 day trip to Tamworth (see my Aunt), Stratford (Uh) and Oxford (They’ll never let me in). It takes me all my time to understand my historical national poet – Rabbie Burns, I have no chance with this Shakespeare fellow. We travelled down on Tuesday 25th September and I drove in some of the worse weather I have ever experienced. Stayed overnight with my Aunt, then off to Oxford via Stratford. We arrived in Stratford at 11:30 ish on Wednesday 26th September, “a quick 60 minutes round the town” then off to Oxford I thinks. Oops wrong, boy was I wrong. 
We parked the car near the Avon though signs did say boat trips had been cancelled due to high water level, (risky but it did not look too bad), then headed for the Tourist Sightseeing Bus, a good way to get to see where the places of interest are. We alighted at Anne Hathaway’s Cottage. Now many people think that Old Will “done Anne wrong” so they say – he left her the second best bed. Ah but there is the jest, the best bed was the guest bed and that went to the daughter, the second best was their bed – the marital bed, see he did not 
do her wrong. From there we went to Mary Arden’s Farm. For them, like me, who do not know their Shakespeare, Mary Arden was Will’s mum. Here we had a long chat with the Steward of the house, who told us the history of the place. There was also a working farm with the workers dressed in the typical clothing of the era. Our final stop was back in Stratford itself, “Shakespeare’s Birthplace“. Here I was allowed to take photos inside the building. The guide explained that due to the popularity of the sites photography was not permitted. She further explained that 
as she and others were in period costume, the requests to be photographed with visitors did hamper her in her role as guide and spoil the enjoyment of others waiting to hear the history. At long last I understand why some places have a ban on photographs. As Susan and I were the last visitors of the day the guide permitted me to take some shots provided I did not use flash. Now you may have picked up on the fact we had been to three places since 12 noon, taking the tour bus to all the places, if I tell you that “Shakespeare’s Birthplace” shuts at 6 p.m. and the last entry is 5:15 p.m. and we were the last to go 
in you should now realise instead of the hour I thought we needed to see Stratford, I had been walking around for nigh on 6 hours. On exiting our last stop I was beginning to wilt and so was Susan, we needed sustenance. To our rescue came the oldest Inn in Stratford the Garrick Inn where we had a nice meal and Susan had a beer (sigh). I may be plebian as far as Art is concerned but I do like my history. Seeing these preserved buildings and hearing the guides and volunteers brings history to life. As for William Shakespeare I’m afraid he will never catch on with me but his life and times have. After our meal we made our way to theHoly Trinity Chruch to see his final resting place. Alas we were too late, so we took a gentle stroll alongside the River Avon back to the car, 
watching the light fade from the sky. One last thing, I often get annoyed at people who quote Shakespeare just because they can, to me it smacks of snobbery, however I was amazed to know we all quote Shakespeare in our daily speech (well in Uk at least) as this article by the late Bernard Levin shows :
On Quoting Shakespeare
If you cannot understand my argument, and declare ‘It’s Greek to me’,
you are quoting Shakespeare;
if you claim to be more sinned against than sinning,
you are quoting Shakespeare;
if you recall your salad days,
you are quoting Shakespeare;
if you act more in sorrow than in anger,
if your wish is father to the thought,
if your lost property has vanished into thin air,
you are quoting Shakespeare;
if you have ever refused to budge an inch or suffered from green-eyed jealousy,
if you have played fast and loose,
if you have been tongue-tied,
a tower of strength,
hoodwinked or in a pickle,
if you have knitted your brows,
made a virtue of necessity,
insisted on fair play,
slept not one wink,
stood on ceremony,
danced attendance (on your lord and master),
laughed yourself into stitches,
had short shrift, cold comfort or too much of a good thing,
if you have seen better days or lived in a fool’s paradise –
why, be that as it may, the more fool you, for it is a foregone conclusion that you are (as good luck would have it) quoting Shakespeare;
if you think it is early days and clear out bag and baggage,
if you think it is high time and that that is the long and short of it,
if you believe that the game is up and that truth will out even if it involves your own flesh and blood,
if you lie low till the crack of doom because you suspect foul play,
if you have your teeth set on edge (at one fell swoop) without rhyme or reason,
then — to give the devil his due — if the truth were known (for surely you have a tongue in your head) you are quoting Shakespeare;
even if you bid me good riddance and send me packing,
if you wish I was dead as a doornail,
if you think I am an eyesore,
a laughing stock,
the devil incarnate,
a stony-hearted villain,
bloody-minded or a blinking idiot,
then — by Jove!
O Lord!
Tut, tut!
For goodness’ sake!
What the dickens!
But me no buts –
it is all one to me, for you are quoting Shakespeare.
Bernard Levin
