Something about Stratford

It’s a fact that when I get stressed, I book theatre. I was pretty stressed last week, so when I was asked to go to a conference in Bromsgrove on Wednesday afternoon, it seemed too good a chance to miss. You see, Bromsgrove was on ‘my’ route to Stratford when I lived down there. It’s only about 20 miles away.

The next moment, I was on line checking out ticket availability. The new season has just started, and only one production has opened, so The Winter’s Tale it was.

As I set off that afternoon, it was a strange feeling. The road was so familiar. Somehow I’d thought it would have changed, as it must be 15 years since I’ve driven that route, but it all looked just the same. I could feel the grin spreading across my face as I drove, particularly as I crested the last hill, and could see the town below me.

For me, there’s something about Stratford in any season, but Spring is particularly special. For years, it was always the start of the season, and now it is again. It’s a feeling of new beginnings but also of continuity, of freshness, and of hope. As I walked along to the theatre to collect my ticket, I could see the new RST finally rising from amongst the cranes and scaffolding. Another year or so, and it will be open.

Walking along Waterside, the boats were out on the river, the passenger ferry was in service, and people were drinking outside the Dirty Duck. I’m not one for drinking on my own in pubs, but the Duck doesn’t worry me, so I bought a glass of wine and took it outside to sit on the wall and look at the river, just drinking in the atmosphere. At the next table to me I spotted a member of the RSC Histories Ensemble, who was later joined by two others. It was a pretty good place to be, and the stresses of work seemed a long way away.