Traveling On

Meanwhile back in Stratford-On-Avon, we wandered the streets until we came upon a door.

It was the front door to the house where William Shakespeare was born in 1564. To tour this place that was built 400 years ago and had changed very little was beyond description. The bedroom contained a very old bed that was quite large and was made with ropes. There was a trundle-bed and some mattresses on the floor. Apparently all the children slept either in the same bed or the same room as the parents. The plank floors were warped and the stairs a little uneven but that was what I liked best.

 William attended school from the age of seven to fourteen when he and his brothers had to leave school because his father fell from favour. The school young Shakespeare attended is not only still standing, it is still being used as a school! I can only imagine how worn the floors must be. I wonder how many young men wandered the halls. The girls were not educated during Shakespearean times.

We had one more stop before leaving town. We went to the Holy Trinity Church were Shakespeare, his wife, daughter, and son-in-law are interred.

     

I was feeling a little forlorn when it was time to return to our coach. But as I walked back to coach parking I had a strong reminder that I was far from home in a foreign country.  “We aren’t in Kansas anymore…” I murmured to myself.

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