I have heard people say that they don’t like Shakespeare. I can’t imagine why. Shakespeare is funny and poignant, witty and pertinent, insightful and explosive, cunning and dangerous. To say you don’t like Shakespeare is to say you don’t like intelligent discourse, you don’t like people, you don’t like life. You don’t like Shakespeare? How tragic then is your own life!

I love Shakespeare, and had I time and money I would see live every play he ever wrote. But alas, that is not possible. I am but a poor player strutting and fretting my hour upon the stage of life, without the resources or the capacity in indulge in such a wondrous journey as that would be.

However, I did finally get to Stratford-upon-Avon and saw the places where Shakespeare was born, where he was educated and where he is laid to rest. It is a humble grave, not at all like the statues, obelisks, and ornate tombs where the late and great are buried. It is simple slab in the church floor, though it is at least at the front of the church near the altar.

But it is to this simple grave where millions from around the world come to pay homage every year. There is now a fabulous Royal Shakespearean Festival Hall and the nearby Swan Theatre where The Bard’s plays are staged. Cafes, pubs, and boutiques line Henley Street where Shakespeare lived, all celebrating his name and trading on his cachet.

It was lovely to be in the town that so resonates with his life and his unmatched literary brilliance. We have made a promise to return and stay the night and see one of his plays in the coming year. That will be a tale worth the telling!