Trinity was simpler than Westminster Abbey and Canterbury in its construction but equally beautiful, and had far fewer visitors.
We left Trinity Church and proceeded to Anne Hathaway's Cottage (AH is better known as Bill Shakespeare's wife). The cottage was thatched roof with huge wooden beams supporting the walls and ceilings--we were forbidden from taking pictures in it hence no images. Captain Northridge was in all his glory and purchased a Shakespare ball cap that I imagine you will see him wearing in school until June.
After the cottage we proceeded to our hotel, the Legacy Falcon, to drop our luggage. We noticed, on our bus travels, a muddy soccer pitch near the hotel and the idea was hatched to go there late at night and stage a proper British football match. More on that later. We moved on to Shakespeare's birthplace, which featured an exhibition and also a visit to the house in which he grew up, which has been quite carefully restored. Again, no pics were allowed. Do camera flashes actually melt old statues?? Just checking. The afternoon was set aside for free time to explore Stratford, with dinner arranged for 7PM.
At dinner the battle lines were drawn between the three teams that would compete in the evening's scavenger hunt: my team, Disaster FC; Captain Northridge's side, Sucktown United; and, Mr. Lincoln's group, Team Awesome. Rules were discussed, answer sheets were distributed, and teams were sent out on staggered starts to unravel mysterious questions such as "Freddie Mercury might have visited" (Queens Head); "What former PM Margaret was called by her friends" (Old Thatch); "Solitary Deciduous" (One Elm). Teams had to identify the correct answer and then have their pictures taken next to it, in addition to memorizing quotes from two statues.
Somehow, against insurmountable odds, Disaster FC prevailed with 280 total points (runners up Team Awesome had 247, and Sucktown Utd. lived up to their moniker with 227). Still, we're all winners here! By now it was around 10:30PM, and it was time to make good on our earlier plan to play football. We departed the hotel in an unruly horde shuffling through Stratford's quiet streets, and returned to the pitch we had seen earlier in the day only to discover that it was surrounded by a six foot brick wall with metal spikes on it. ??? Evidently the Brits treat their muddy soccer pitches to rigorous protection.We eventually made our way to an open green next to the newly renovated Royal Shakespeare Company Theatre, on the banks of the Avon river. After a brief negotiation with the mystified night watchman, it was on! The ball immediately went into the river, but after a couple of skillful retrievals we were able to complete a match for the ages.
The boys vs. girls matchups left the gents at a numbers disadvantage, but the real difference was the relentless savagery with which the ladies attacked and defended. Whenever the ball was at my feet there were ponytails flying out of the darkness, and the pressure proved too much for the guys in a 5-4 defeat. About halfway through the match, the aforementioned night watchman and another security guard began watching in bafflement and fascination. When the match ended and we approached one of them to thank him for allowing us to play, he invited the group--after swearing us to secrecy--into the theatre, where Queen Elizabeth, Judi Dench, and Patrick Stewart would be visiting to see the premiere of King Lear only a few days hence. An extraordinarily cool gesture, especially considering our various states of muddy undress, innit.
Sadly, the countdown had begun to the end of the trip and our return to the states. One more day awaited--a return to London.
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