It was a good day’s ride into Stratford-Upon-Avon where we are camped on the local race course.

The weather continues to be perfect as we’re enjoying a couple of days off of the bikes exploring Shakespeare’s home town.

Megan treated us to a lovely, belated, Mother’s Day lunch at The White Swan yesterday. It was built about 1010, which made it 100 years old when Shakespeare was here. It has lovely murals from the apocryphal book of Tobit on the walls, which they think influenced Shakespeare’s references to pubs with murals in his plays. It was amazing to sit and sip our lemon water in front of a fireplace where the Bard may have warmed his heels on a cold English afternoon.

We saw Shakespeare’s birth place and the home he died in and every manner of souvenir shop hawking Shakespearian junk imaginable. Even so, the charm of this town remains intact and we passed a lovely afternoon getting lost in the little squares and avenues that honeycomb the downtown area.

The long awaited event of the day was our attendance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, by the Royal Shakespeare Company, at the Courtyard Theater.

The children were buzzing with excitement as we climbed the stairs to the high gallery and our seats. They were fidgety for the final minutes, leaning way out over the railing to look down on the apron stage.

Naturally, Elisha, while prying his shoe around on the bottom of the railing, let it slip off his foot and it fell a story and a half down to land in all of it’s stinky glory, at the feet of two properly veiled muslim ladies. The comedy before the comedy.

As for the play, it was, simply, amazing. The children sat with rapt attention for the entire three hours and even little Ezra laughed his head off at several points. I still maintain that Shakespeare was meant to be watched, not read, and is not meant just for high brow folks in the great halls of learning. So much more is caught through the interpretation of the actors than comes across on the written page. Megan, who’s read plenty of Shakespeare at fifteen, commented, “Mrs. Miller, I had no idea that Shakespeare was funny!” And there you have it. Watch it first. Read it later.

Of course, this production has spoiled us for all future ones and I’m sure the kids will compare every other play to this one. I’m glad. Is there any better place to learn to love great literature and art than in the town shadowed by the author’s presence? I think not.