Faux History

Took me long enough. Due to a power-outage (which only affected my homestay), I am writing about events that occurred almost a week ago. So forgive me for skimping on the narrative and focusing mostly on pictures.

We went to Stratford-upon-Avon last week. We learned a lot of historical facts, like that the house they include in the Mary Warden's House exhibit isn't actually the house she grew up in. And that the Tudor peoples made boots, ate, and played board games all at the same table:


We also learned that de-feathering a dead chicken in the parlor of your home and looking okay about it and even like you're mildly enjoying it was perfectly acceptable (shortly after taking this picture, I was told there was no photography allowed in the house, and then if I understood English):


We then walked around Stratford, learning about all the different types of buildings. Like that the church across the street and the arbor in the garden were probably Shakespeare's inspiration for Twelfth Night. Or, that if I lived in Tudor times, I would most definitely be found here:


One can only hope it was a public library back in the day.

And then our professor got in a fight with a goose.


That night, we saw the Royal Shakespeare Company's version of Merchant of Venice. Usually, I prefer contemporary, minimalist sets with Shakespeare, because it forces you to pay attention to the words. However, this production really just made me pay attention to how ill-fitting the women's clothes were. The men all looked dapper and smashing it nice, tailored suits, and the women looked the best when they dressed in the nice, tailored suits. Despite this distracting detail, I enjoyed the play.

The next day was Warwick Castle. We climbed to the top of the tower, and the obvious Monty Python jokes ensued:

"You don't frighten us, English pig dogs. Go and boil your bottoms, you sons of a silly person. I blow my nose at you, so-called "Arthur King," you and all your silly English K-nig-hts."


"One day son, this will all be yours." "What, the curtains?"


"On second thought, let's not go to Camelot. It is a silly place."


We also decided that Warwick Castle was Warwick's equivalent to a coal mine. "You're smart, Billy. You gotta grow up and get out of here. You don't want to work at the Castle like your father, do you?"

The castle was purchased by Madame Taussaud's in 1978, and it seems like they needed some place to dump all of their Medieval wax figures. In every corner there was some kind of figure doing something that looked old-timey, like arm-wrestling or reading with ancient glasses. I don't think I actually learned anything, except that a trebuchet demonstrations can be quite anti-climatic.

We also toured a peacock garden that was dominated by ducks and this half-assed attempt:


I lie, there were actual, beautiful peacocks there. I found this one the most endearing though.

Did you know that Warwick Castle is battery powered? This view is from the watermill: