The Barb visits London and England


The tour group (our guide is in the stocks)
Back: Lucille (Hidden), John, Tom, Ruth, Jana
Middle: Frances, Chris, The Barb, Al, Karen, Sharon, Natasha
Front: Kathy and Jack. Missing (Photographer) Lee

If you're into sounding snooty, there's nothing like dropping the phrase "....and while I was in London....". The Barb (that would be me) was afforded the marvellous opportunity to use this snooty phrase when she went on Theatre Alberta's "Shakespeare Tour" of England and London in April of this year. The Barb went on this trip looking forward to a little culture, a lot of theatre and some major good shopping.


Our fearless leaders: Kathy and Jack

Sixteen of us (including Kathy Classen and Jack, our tour guide) descended upon an unsuspecting England. Upon landing in London after a flight that was approximately 2 weeks long (in subjective time), our groggy little group piled into a rented van. We knew we were in extremely capable hands when our tour guide promptly blew out a tire approximately two blocks into our foray.


Jack (tour guide) and the "men" trying to fix the flat. The women were all looking for the instruction manual.

Of course, we were completely useless at the tire changing and some truck driver finally stopped and did it for us. That is, once he stopped snickering at our pathetic efforts. At this point, The Barb was looking for someone to "vote off", but was told that this tour was not going to be played like a game of Survivor. Darn. I was sure I would be one of the "final two" that made it to the end.

The tour was divided into two parts: Rural England and London (okay, maybe the parts outside London weren't technically "rural" -- but whatever!) Base camp for the first five days was charming cottages in rustic "Stow in the Wold". (Translation of "rustic": a "town" approximately the size of five city blocks, where they rolled up the cobblestones at 5:00 p.m.)

Postcards of Stow in Wold's Town Square

Much to Kathy's dismay, I redubbed the town "Hole in the Wall". Needless to say, the shopping was not good. The Barb figures that Peter Rabbit (of Beatrice Potter fame) came from this neck of the woods, as the cottages all looked like the drawings in the books.


My cottage mates in front of "Rosewood" cottage (they name EVERY building in England).
From left: Jana, Chris, Frances, The Barb, Natasha


The Barb in Stocks in Stow's town square


Another photo of my "flatmates" (as they say in Jolly Old)
In the Town Square

The Barb was particularly fascinated by all the castles, as The Barb has always secretly believed that she was born royalty and stolen at birth by some jealous underling. However, there was great disappointment that were no alligator filled moats to navigate.


The Barb on the lawn outside Windsor Castle


Warwick Castle
By the way, climbing up the watchtower offers a great view of the estate, but not highly recommended if you're: a) claustrophic, b) scared of heights, c)afraid of the dark, or (like The Barb) d) all of the above. I'm sure the view was fantastic, but since I never went near the edge, I just had to take everybody's word for it.


The Barb (once again) in stocks at Warwick

In addition to castles, other day trip highlights included Worchester (pronounced Wooster -- what's with all the names with all the silent syllables? What a total waste of alphabit chunks!) Oxford, Stonehendge (very very cool), and the city of Bath (The Barb's fave). The Barb got to visit the Jane Austen house of worship (although I think it was technically called the Jane Austen Interpretative Centre) and eat a Sally Lunn bun at Sally Lunn (these buns are to DIE FOR). Of course, the Roman baths and the Abbey were pretty cool as well.

The Abbey in Bath


Sally Lunn Buns Shop (yum!)


Jane Austin Centre


Stonehendge

Of course, it being a Shakespeare tour, we did Stratford and saw all the Shakespeare houses. However, as to sightings of the great man himself, William was pretty elusive (The Barb heard a rumour that he was dead -- but I'm sure that rumour monger was referring to Elvis).


Royal Shakespeare Theatre Stratford

Of course, we had to see all the "Shakespeare Houses" (his birthplace, Anne Hathaway's cottage, etc.)


Some of the gang outside Shakespeare's Birthplace
Kathy Frances, Karen, Al, Jack, Lee, Lucille


The Barb in the gardens outside Shakespeare's birthplace


Postcards of Shakespeare's Birthplace


Anne Hathaway's Cottage

Our tour guide Jack was very knowledgable and a complete scream. As we raced down the twisty country roads (are there ANY straight roads in England?) he would toss off commentary about the passing attractions as we zoomed by at warp 5 (the man drove without regard for signage, speed limits, oncoming traffic, pedestrians, wildlife (including Peter Rabbit) or any other potential impediments to forward momentum). Needless to say, we were never late arriving anywhere. And its worth mentioning that we always did get there in one piece. As we zoomed by, Jack would toss out comments like "That's Charles' summer place". "This is where you can get the best spotted dick" (don't ask). He would also point out the killer mistletoe hanging from the trees. This last bit of information was quite unsettling to The Barb as she has a major tree phobia (short version of long story: never show a three year old the scene from Snow White where she's running through the forest and the trees are all grabbing at her).


Some "Roadkill" that Jack picked up while zooming down the twisty roads. Roadkill stayed on the front of the car from Oxford, to Stonehendge all the way into London (at that point he was removed from the grill for fear some Londonite would steal him).

Finally, after a long day of driving, markets and afternoon tea (The Barb is official addicted to afternoon tea -- if anyone can tell her where she can find clotted cream in Edmonton, she will be forever in your debt), the van drove into London!


Picadilly Circus

Those who know The Barb, know that she is, at heart, an urban creature. Lovely as the "countryside" was (what with the killer mistletoe and all), she was very happy to get to a big city! Shopping! Theatre! Shopping! Nightlife! Did I mention Shopping?!!? However, The Barb must confess that sticker shock set in quickly. (Exchange rate: 2.4 to 1 -- aaaauuuugggg!) The Barb, being the notorius cheapwad that she is couldn't bring herself to buy anything more than a couple of cds (that she couldn't get here) and some highly overpriced sandwiches.


Our Hotel, Reems Hotel (outside view)


Our Hotel, the room I shared with Natasha (inside view)


Freeds of London -- the best place to buy dance wear

Our lovely tour guides had planned some more outings for us in London, including the Globe Theatre.


The Globe


The Barb standing next to the Stage (its humongous!)


The Stage in actual use


Another view of the Globe


The gates to the entrance.
If you look closely, you'll see a number of wrought iron figurines on the gate. Each figurine is symbolic of something from each of Shakespeare's plays.


Kathy standing next to the statue of Ophelia at the Globe Interpretive Centre

They also had the coolest fundraising idea. For a small donation (2 pounds), they would give you a certificate, allowing you to name what small "prop" you wanted to pay for (you had to know your Shakespeare and have some imagination -- there wasn't some menu or such to choose from). My fave play has always been "Much Ado About Nothing" and I figured that Beatrice would have used a hankie in those days -- so that's what I paid for.


My certificate!

On the way there and back, we had to cross the Millenium Bridge. That was very cool too.


Kathy on the Bridge

Of course, for The Barb, theatre is right up there with shopping. One big reason that she chose to go on this trip was to catch previews of the new musical "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang". Stop snickering. I am totally serious here. (I was obsessed with getting a ticket to the show and I drove my travel companions insane during that last leg of the drive in to London). That show was one of my MOST FAVE musicals from childhood. They adapted the stage play straight from the movie and it was delightful!


The London Palladium where it played


The propaganda (flyer) promoting the show

The voices in the cast were excellent and car flew quite magnificently. The audience was comprised of about 65% adults and 35% kids. I think the adults were having more fun than the ankle biters. The guy behind me was singing along to every tune (......"Truly Scrumptious, you're truly truly scrumptious.."). When I turned around to see who was singing, the guy was at least 10 years older than me. An audience filled with middle aged nutcases paying big money to see some childhood memory live. That show was a license to print money.

The Barb also got to see a play that was a New York off-broadway transplant "Jesus Hopped The A Train" and watched "The Full Monty" (more New York transplants). Both were very enjoyable (she even picked up a copy of the Jesus script). She got the tickets at the half-price booth in Leicester Square (pronounced "Lester" -- more silent chunks in the middle of words). The half price booth for tickets is highly recommended. Be aware, there are two different lines -- one for matinees and one for evening shows. There are also a number of other shops claiming to be half price. They're NOT. They're just ticket agents trying to cash in on tourists looking for the half price booth.


The booth

The one other show that the Barb went to see was the Royal Shakespeare Company's Hamlet. Otherwise known as "Hamlet from Hell".


The show was done in modern dress (all black attire) and no set. The Barb was disappointed by the lack of regal pageantry (I mean, c'mon, we're in England -- this is the place where they do velvet and opulence really well!). That would have been okay, EXCEPT the running time of the damn play was FOUR HOURS! (okay, 3 hours 55 minutes). I KID YOU NOT! I've printed the section of the program where they warned us of the running time:


Read the last paragraph. Makes you wanna weep.

By the time the second intermission rolled around, it was even money as to who would go bananas first: me, or Ophelia. I was all for jumping into the Thames, but it was pointed out by a fellow traveller that, based on famous paintings, I was seriously underdressed for a river jump. (Minimum requirements -- a blue velvet dress). So, I went back to endure act III.

That pretty well covers the trip to England. The Barb learned quite a few things on this trip, namely:

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off in search of clotted cream.

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