My first visit to this country was as a fortunate house-sitter in the lovely part of the world that is Stratford-upon-Avon. I spent roughly four and a half months over Winter of 2002/03 living and working as a local in what has long been a tourist town, at least ever since it was realised that there was money in the legacy of a man with the surname Shakespeare.
I have fond memories of Stratford. Aside from it being the place I met my partner in crime, Laura, it was also a great part of the country to be based as an introduction to life in the UK. It was also the England that we read about, saw photos of and expected - not just from the Shakespeare and Tudor angle either. I got excited over the novelty value in things that were interesting to me but the everyday - even a nuisance - for the Stratfordian natives. As much as I loved the sight of seeing the River Avon turn into a block of ice for weeks the people in the canal boats probably saw it differently. Similarly, the sight of cars sliding along an icy Bridgefoot was comical for me, but the drivers, I dare say, didn't share the same sense of glee as their bumpers nudged.
Although I was only resident for about 4.5 months, I very much felt like a local: I made friends, became a familiar face around town, enjoyed good banter with people who worked in the stores and the neighbours. It also occurred to me recently that perhaps I became too much like a local. I'm a firm believer in that most of us take our own city, county/state and country for granted and don't see if as visitors do. We're just about to end a six month stay in the middle of Manchester and I can already see a roll call of places that we should have gotten around to visiting and things we should have done over this time.
So, given that I was a local of Stratford-upon-Avon I managed to avoid surrounding myself in the cult of William Shakespeare. I remember that one of the productions of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre Company during my sabbatical was lead by Ralph Fiennes before he became Voldemoort. Alas, I have no idea what the interior of the riverside theatre looks like. I didn't even visit any of the relevant Shakespeare houses. The closest I came to this was that I'd often eat my lunchtime Vegemite sandwiches on a bench across from where Shakespeare was supposedly born.
So Laura and I returned to Stratford and the region the first time since that winter. 2012 also happens to be the year where the William Shakespeare factor has been amped up to 11 for the World Shakespeare Festival, which piggy-backs on the Olympics, Queen's Jubilee and other events going on this year.
Stratford-upon-Avon has probably made cash from William Shakespeare since people would have flogged knock-offs of his classics outside the original riverside theatre when it was built in the 1800s. I remember the town had the usual souvenir shops overflowing with the usual parade of postcards and tea-towels when I stayed here over 2002/03. But things are a little different now. The Royal Shakespeare Theatre has been given a face-lift over the last several years. Part of this renovation includes a generous souvenir shop to walk through to access the theatre ticket desk. This store is dwarfed by one in the main town area. Between the two of them they sell anything you could and couldn't conceive of being attached to William Shakespeare and his works. It would not have surprised me to have seen a cricket set with 'To bowl or to bat, that is the question' painted over it or a Frisbee with Shakespeare himself on it.
We initially booked a couple of nights in the motel near Stratford and Warwick for a stay back in May, but other arrangements dictated that we change the dates. The nearest available dates of comparable price happened to be the August Bank Holiday weekend, an occasion I was oblivious to at the time. As it turned out, a long weekend in Britain plus anything above average weather results in hordes of people escaping their houses or coming out from underground. I find that many people are seemingly absent from the country when the weather is being its usual self.
Stratford-upon-Avon has probably made cash from William Shakespeare since people would have flogged knock-offs of his classics outside the original riverside theatre when it was built in the 1800s. I remember the town had the usual souvenir shops overflowing with the usual parade of postcards and tea-towels when I stayed here over 2002/03. But things are a little different now. The Royal Shakespeare Theatre has been given a face-lift over the last several years. Part of this renovation includes a generous souvenir shop to walk through to access the theatre ticket desk. This store is dwarfed by one in the main town area. Between the two of them they sell anything you could and couldn't conceive of being attached to William Shakespeare and his works. It would not have surprised me to have seen a cricket set with 'To bowl or to bat, that is the question' painted over it or a Frisbee with Shakespeare himself on it.
We initially booked a couple of nights in the motel near Stratford and Warwick for a stay back in May, but other arrangements dictated that we change the dates. The nearest available dates of comparable price happened to be the August Bank Holiday weekend, an occasion I was oblivious to at the time. As it turned out, a long weekend in Britain plus anything above average weather results in hordes of people escaping their houses or coming out from underground. I find that many people are seemingly absent from the country when the weather is being its usual self.
It's funny that the only time I saw Stratford in such an overrun state during my stay was on the day I said goodbye to it on a warm, sunny day at the cusp of Spring. The population multiplied upon exposure to sunshine and warmth after hibernating through a quiet winter. The combination of the long weekend plus the generally nice weather equaled people, many of them.
At first I couldn't quite think of what it was that made the modern Stratford different to the one I experienced over that winter. It took a while for the familiarity to form, but that wasn't it. I think it was seeing the town more busy than I had ever experienced it while living there that. For nostalgia's sake we wandered through the camping store where I worked while being a citizen of Stratford which was busy like the rest of the town. I remember working on Saturdays and Sundays while snow dusted the high street and you could count the store's daily customers on one hand.
The day after our trip down memory lane in Stratford we visited Warwick Castle in the nearby town of ...Warwick. Although I ignored the William Shakespeare phenomenon of Stratford, I had fond memories of a visit to the castle that was marketed on the fact that it was the country's largest/most in-tact example of a grand castle. The 2012 version of the same castle is a little different though. Yes, the structural castle is still there as it has been for centuries of course. But the focus is a little different from the heritage and history angle that used to suffice.
I remember that there was a tower of the castle where there were interpretive notes indicating that it was the most haunted area of the castle and one could feel a certain chill walking through and imagining the horrors that occurred within the fortress. Any ghosts that may have existed in the tower have since been kicked out by Merlin the Wizard and the dragons he combats in the BBC television program. The 15 minute trip through the tower promises the possibility of speaking to the dragon itself. This interaction can be made possible with the purchase of a ticket in addition to the standard ticket which is overpriced as it is.
For the price the families and tourists are paying at the gate it would be a fair assumption to think that much would be included once you're in the castle's grounds. There were jousting recreations and falconry displays, mock-dead rat tossing and annoying jesters that were included in the ticket price. That was probably the extent of the ticket value. If your child wanted to indulge in archery with a crudely constructed bow it cost £3 for them to shoot off half a dozen arrows aimlessly while they were innocently oblivious to the half an hour of minimum wage it takes to raise such funding. Similar costings were applied to shield and face painting.
I have photos of my original visit to Warwick Castle where it could have been any day over the last several centuries. Given that I visited in winter it was mostly absent of the marauding hordes that invaded on the recent Bank Holiday weekend which provided nice photos absent of stray heads and unwanted figures. Aside from the people, there were also no hot dog stalls, costly dungeon tours, sword construction and other sideshows to distract from the grand example of this country's history that surrounds you.
The blatant commercialisation of the attraction saddened me and cheapened the day. It was hard to enjoy something that was purely there to generate money against the backdrop of a valued piece of the history that is a cornerstone of this island. Yes, money makes the 21st century go around, but there is a limit where it becomes tacky and tasteless. Warwick Castle seemed to take the medieval swords and axes to this limit and the place has forgotten what it is. As an outsider it is not what the genuine tourist wants or expects to see. I'd much rather feel the history of any ghosts of people who may or may not have been beheaded in a tower instead of paying to meet Merlin and his dragons.
I remember that there was a tower of the castle where there were interpretive notes indicating that it was the most haunted area of the castle and one could feel a certain chill walking through and imagining the horrors that occurred within the fortress. Any ghosts that may have existed in the tower have since been kicked out by Merlin the Wizard and the dragons he combats in the BBC television program. The 15 minute trip through the tower promises the possibility of speaking to the dragon itself. This interaction can be made possible with the purchase of a ticket in addition to the standard ticket which is overpriced as it is.
For the price the families and tourists are paying at the gate it would be a fair assumption to think that much would be included once you're in the castle's grounds. There were jousting recreations and falconry displays, mock-dead rat tossing and annoying jesters that were included in the ticket price. That was probably the extent of the ticket value. If your child wanted to indulge in archery with a crudely constructed bow it cost £3 for them to shoot off half a dozen arrows aimlessly while they were innocently oblivious to the half an hour of minimum wage it takes to raise such funding. Similar costings were applied to shield and face painting.
I have photos of my original visit to Warwick Castle where it could have been any day over the last several centuries. Given that I visited in winter it was mostly absent of the marauding hordes that invaded on the recent Bank Holiday weekend which provided nice photos absent of stray heads and unwanted figures. Aside from the people, there were also no hot dog stalls, costly dungeon tours, sword construction and other sideshows to distract from the grand example of this country's history that surrounds you.
The blatant commercialisation of the attraction saddened me and cheapened the day. It was hard to enjoy something that was purely there to generate money against the backdrop of a valued piece of the history that is a cornerstone of this island. Yes, money makes the 21st century go around, but there is a limit where it becomes tacky and tasteless. Warwick Castle seemed to take the medieval swords and axes to this limit and the place has forgotten what it is. As an outsider it is not what the genuine tourist wants or expects to see. I'd much rather feel the history of any ghosts of people who may or may not have been beheaded in a tower instead of paying to meet Merlin and his dragons.
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