Stratford: As Nick Likes It!

Chip Foundation birthdays are fairly evenly spaced through the middle months of the year, with Ken's in April, mine in June, Mr B Senior's in July and Stephen's in October. The missing person in that roll call of course is Nick whose big day falls at the end of August, hence Episode 71 of the Chronicles is arranged by way of celebration. This year our resident royal selects something Shakespearean as his chosen destination, but will Stratford be 'Much Ado About Nothing' or 'All's Well That Ends Well'?

- A train! A train! My kingdom for a train! -

Thereby hangs a tale as our motley ensemble converge upon the 10:46 train from Smethwick to Stratford-upon-Avon, Nick joining us at Solihull albeit still traumatised by Sedgley massage revelations from earlier in the week. Stratford Station has been significantly upgraded since I last saw it, with new glazing and an improved booking hall. Modern apartments have sprung up on the former Cattle Market site adjacent to the railway line while a series of five mosaics featuring the town's famous landmarks escort us out onto Alcester Road. With Nick leading the way, we progress along Wood Street and Bridge Street, dodging Bank Holiday weekend tourists when passing the Old Thatch Tavern, the Swan Hotel and Barclays Bank. 

- Thou polecat! Thou tortoise! -

Nick's immediate target is the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, a world-renowned institution on the banks of the River Avon which very much appeals to his inner thespian. The complex was redeveloped in 2018 and comprises elements of the original 1879 Swan Theatre and the 1932 building as designed by Elisabeth Scott. We explore the gift shop and even indulge in some dressing-up antics - I'm told the ass's ears rather suited me! Besides such costumed japery, we test out the 'Insult Chair' to see what barbs are uttered our way. Mr B Senior is merely compared to various animals whereas I have to endure a lengthy diatribe questioning my honourable reputation; suitably admonished we exit onto Waterside for a riverside stroll.

- The Great Bard's Grave -

An essential component of any Stratford-upon-Avon outing has to be a visit to Shakespeare's final resting place in Holy Trinity Church. Having been baptised here in 1564, the playwright had a lifetime's association with his parish church and is buried in the prestigious family plot next to the altar. His grave carries a curse thought to have been penned by the man himself, discouraging anyone intending on disturbing his eternal peace: "Good friend for Jesus sake forbeare, To dig the dust enclosed here. Blessed be the man that spares these stones, and cursed be he that moves my bones". We aren't about to invoke centuries-worth of wrath and so we politely pay our respects before heading off into Old Town. 

- The Birthday Boy in The Bull -

Nick is working from memory when navigating to our first pub of the day but his bearings hold true in bringing us to the Bull, a backstreet community local which hosts regular live music. Doom Bar, Guinness and the Bull house pale ale (brewed by Wye Valley) are duly consumed as Stephen keeps close tabs on the test match score - England seem to be batting well being as he isn't watching, surely just a coincidence?! A Boris Johnson-themed birthday card offers additional amusement before we relocate to the Windmill, a Greene King establishment near the District Council offices. Low ceilings add a touch of character as befits a place that is said to have been in existence since 1599, meaning Shakespeare and his contemporary townsfolk could well have quaffed here. Our tipple of choice is Prescott's Podium Finish, a 4.8% Ruby Port Stout that certainly perks up those of a princely persuasion.

- Seeking Stratford Sports Club -

Luncheon is served at the Golden Bee Wetherspoons where the Beardsmores demonstrate gammon-guzzling of the highest order, and 'Hullabaloo' happens to be the name of the beer rather than any unscheduled overexuberance. Although both Ken and Stephen had previous experiences of Stratford, their memories mainly concerned the cricket ground on the far side of the Avon. It therefore seems appropriate for us to call by for old time's sake, crossing the historic tramway bridge and passing the Butterfly Farm in the process. Not only does Stratford Sports Club evoke thoughts of yesteryear, it gives us chance to watch the action from Old Trafford - Ben Stokes completing his first Test century as England captain - and partake of Jimbo, a Purity Best bitter named in honour of the brewery's co-founder James Minkin. 

- A good portly man -

After that sporting diversion, Nick's intention is to conclude matters by sampling Stratford's brace of Good Beer Guide entries. The first of these is the Bear at the Swan's Nest, which produces some Beardsmore Senior alarm when it looks like we're heading into a posh bistro. Pierre's is spared but the Bear bar is rather refined nevertheless, and we rather fear Ken has drawn the short straw as regards the most expensive round of the day. The Timothy Taylor's Boltmaker is confirmed as being in fine form as we commandeer the kind of round table that could well make King Arthur feel jealous. We follow this with a brief browse around Bancroft Basin, the southern terminus of the Stratford-upon-Avon Canal. Narrowboats bob up and down on the water as we inspect the Gower Monument, a sculptural tour-de-force that features Shakespeare on a pedestal at its centre flanked by four of his most memorable characters - Hamlet, Lady Macbeth, Prince Hal and Falstaff.

- The Stratford Alehouse -

The last of that quartet would soon inspire our final ale of the day, but not before we've paid Henley Street homage to Shakespeare's Birthplace which continues to attract more than its fair share of Japanese tourists. To the Stratford Alehouse micropub we then troop, claiming a large barrel table just inside the shop door and collectively imbibing of Falstaff's Folly, deep copper in colour and malty in taste. Further analysis of the recent Elvis movie means John reprises his self-appointed role as the Chip Foundation's resident film critic while Stephen confirms that Ben Foakes has reached his century in Manchester. 18:03 is the designated hour for our homeward train and we depart on time in highly contented fashion. Measure for measure, it has been a great day all round - cheers!