We arrived home from Paris one week ago. We’d had a wonderful time, but we were spent. The next morning, Saturday, my (Jason) parents flew back to Arizona. Later that afternoon Brendan came down with a fever/aches/chills. The rest of us (mostly) followed like dominoes: I was hit with the same symptoms on Monday morning, Oliver by Tuesday, and Lily by Wednesday. (Erinn, while battling a cold, has a remarkable ability to avoid most of our more acute family illnesses.) We had plans to go to Stratford-Upon-Avon from Thursday to Friday for a quick visit to Shakespeare’s home town and to see a new musical production of Roald Dahl’s “Matilda” put on by the Royal Shakespeare Company. Train tickets, a hotel, theater tickets -- all prepurchased. Fortunately, the worst of the bug was lasting only 24-48 hours. Lily rallied on Thursday morning and we walked to one tube station in the rain and wind and from another tube station to the train station in more of the same. We were a sorry sight. Though the fever/aches/chills didn’t last long, other symptoms persisted. I’m sure we set a family record for collective mucus excretion.
The two-hour train ride turned out to be much better than we expected. The previous week’s train trip to Paris was *hard* -- a very crowded train and Oliver was very restless. En route to Stratford we had an entire train car to ourselves, so Oliver could roam freely. We checked into our hotel, The Falcon, which was also a very pleasant surprise: nice and cozy with traditional Tudor architecture and design. When we got into our room and opened the curtains, we were greeted with a beautiful rainbow! A salve to our weary souls!
The ensuing 24 hours were kind of a whirlwind. Brennie, Oliver, and I had a great pint/scones and cream/bangers and mash in the hotel restaurant while Erinn and Lily took a snooze. We walked around the quaint little town and along the river. It was windy and chilly but mostly sunny. I stayed home with Oliver while Erinn took Brendan and Lily to see “Matilda.” All reports were glowing. Next morning I got up early with Oliver and strolled him around the river as the sun was rising. It was breezy and cold but quiet and peaceful. The sunrise stopped me in my tracks (see pic below which unfortunately doesn't begin to do it justice). Once everyone else was up, we walked into town again, did some window shopping, visited Shakespeare’s birthplace (very welld done, actually), then visited his final resting place in Holy Trinity Church (also very cool). Mind you, during all of this we are *dragging* -- we’re tired, queasy, coughing, sniffling, dripping, and sneezing. But we're soaking it in and having a truly rich and enjoyable time.
This is, in fact, a nice image of what much of our life here is like. Day to day living is often difficult, stressful, and exhausting. But the history is enthralling! The art is endless and spectacular! And the beauty is staggering! I'm proud of my little family for embracing this experience with such gusto and very grateful to be living it with them.
This is, in fact, a nice image of what much of our life here is like. Day to day living is often difficult, stressful, and exhausting. But the history is enthralling! The art is endless and spectacular! And the beauty is staggering! I'm proud of my little family for embracing this experience with such gusto and very grateful to be living it with them.
The Falcon Hotel.
Brendan in the lobby.
The rainbow from our hotel window.
A purfect pint.
Scones and cream and cake.
The Avon River in the late afternoon.
Matilda!
The Avon River early the next morning.
Sunrise across the street from our hotel.
Shakespeare's grave in Holy Trinity Church.
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