I’ll have a squashed curry, please

Here are a few pics for you.

Shakespeare’s Birthplace

Anne Hathaway’s cottage

An old building

One of about a gazillion swans

We’re having a quiet hour before going out for dinner tonight so I thought I’d keep you up to date.  It’s really nice to have a kip in a ‘we’re on holiday, let’s have a kip coz we can’ instead of the usual, “God!! I’m exhausted, I’ll have to have an hour on the settee” kind of way.  I was trying to set up the laptop without waking B up, but I failed, so he’s gone out for a ciggie while I write this.

The journey down:  Laughed my socks of at the service station. We’d stopped for a break and decided to get something to eat. I’d seen a sign advertising butternut squash curry so I asked the young chap behind the counter if it was available today. He looked at me horrified and asked me to repeat what I’d said, so I did.
Then he shouted down to a colleague, “have we got any squashed, er, butter, er, squash butter, er, buttersquatch.  OH! Butterscotch curry?”  Turns out they hadn’t, shame, I might have enjoyed a nice butterscotch curry, I’ve never had that before.
On our arrival at Stratford  upon Avon we went for a walk round to acquaint ourselves with the place.  Just down the road from the RSC are some public toilets that I went to inspect. There was one of those toilet roll holders that flatly refuses to let you have any toilet roll, all you can rip off it are thumb nail sized pieces as it meanly grips the rest of the roll tightly, even worse, it was one of those where  you have to lean upside down like a bat to even reach it in the first place.  While I was hanging upside down and the blood was running to my head it struck me as really funny. It must be because we’d see all these signs for Shakespeare everywhere.  I suddenly  thought, ” drip, thou  evil crone, Gadzooks.” (and some other stuff but I daren’t put that!!!) Then of course I started to laugh. Good job there was no one else in there,  or I could very well have been locked up by now!!
I’ve noticed a disproportionate amount of studious looking young girls with hair scraped back in an untidy bun, scurrying around in shapeless floral dresses, black clad legs and ballet pumps. They scurry around with their arms full of books looking terribly preoccupied and busy. Most be a luvvy thing.  Then of course there are the millions of American and Japanese tourists.
We decided to do the full on tourist thing and get the open topped bus round the sights. Heehee. Great fun. I really think they are milking the Shakespeare thing a bit too much though,  it was almost like, “Shakespeare’s second cousin twice removed once walked past this house, come and give us fifteen quid and we’ll tell you all about it”  Actually, Stratford’s a lovely place, we’ve had a brilliant ( if expensive) day.
Last night we stopped at Carluccio’s by the river for a coffee and a glass of wine.  We popped in again today. Just as we’d got settled, along came two young girls who began to push the tables together and scoop up all the chairs. “Great, we thought, all we need is a bunch of pre adolescent kids at the next table.”  What we got was Grandad, Nan, dog and Mum. Mum was clearly on top note trying to amuse an obviously visiting set of parents. She was doing it though  in an overly cheery, jolly hockey sticks, verging on panic, kind of way (which I’m horrified to say I recognise in myself).  while my voice goes shrill when I’m stressed, hers got loud. So very, very loud. She was bellowing at her parents, talking down to them as if they were four year olds.  “I’VE GOT YOU A SMALL CAKE – WE DON’T WANT TO RUIN OUR APPETITE FOR LATER NOW DO WE. HHMMMM?”  I bet they could have cheerfully slapped her. If they were deaf it was probably because of all the bellowing. I’d just bought Bob some new socks, I could have made really good use of a couple of them but he wouldn’t let me!
 Right, I’m off, Bob’s back.  See ya.
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