Stranded in Stratford

This was a short excerpt of my trip that I wrote and submitted to STA Travel, where it won a spot in the newsletter and got me a travel voucher ;-)

After an incredible month of backpacking Europe, my best friend Alex and I left London to visit Shakespeare’s home, Stratford-upon-Avon, after making a pit-stop in Oxford, as we had forgotten the day before to stop in at the Eagle and Child bar that Tolkien, Lewis, and other Inklings frequented.

We had big plans – we were going to see the second-to-last showing of King Lear starring Ian McKellen, a hero of ours, at the Royal Shakespeare Company. On the way, I called to see if there were tickets available. As the lady told me they were sold out, the sinking feeling of disappointment spread. (I was told later that they were sold out in October… this was July.) However, she then told me about the ‘queue,’ where people who couldn’t make the showing could give their tickets back to the theater to sell. Excitedly, I asked her when we should get in the queue … she said ‘now.’ We were still at least two hours away…

Through some miracle, we got tickets. Not just any tickets, front row. In the small Shakespearean theater, when you sat in the front row, you couldn’t cross your legs because your knees touched the stage. When the actors were on stage, we could have touched them as they walked by. It was amazing being in the presence of such gifted, famous actors … plus, we saw Ian McKellen naked. I will never look at Gandalf the same way.

One thing we forgot to do … check the train timetable. The last train left three hours ago. Stranded. In Stratford-upon-Avon, tiny town full of bed-and-breakfasts all reserved months in advance… places that don’t open their doors at midnight. After wandering for hours, we enlisted the help of a night porter. He called the Holiday Inn, who claimed they were sold out due to a conference. But we thought, hey, it’s a Holiday Inn, they have a lobby with some couches we could crash on – as it was actually a really cold night and we weren’t prepared to park-bench it. In the end, the concierge, ready to kick us out upon seeing us settling in on the couches, told us he had a room available. Grateful not to sleep in the cold, we checked in … to a 200 pound a night room… We look back on this experience with laughter and the phrase ‘Of course.’