(no subject)
Mar. 20th, 2013 09:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolSo this weekend I have been to Stratford upon Avon! It is a lovely place. Riddled with swans, I might add.
The weekend, I will admit, didn't start as well as it could. Our downstairs neighbour went nuts and decided to bring home a lady friend, and talk ALL NIGHT. I do really mean that, it went on from 1am-11am the next day. Oh dear. So my lovely long lie in was slightly ruined.
But still, the day went ahead! We went to The Woleseley for afternoon tea, which was very posh and full of delicious food. I'd not been down Piccadilly before, and we had a good wander along the road afterwards, watching all the posh people and giggling at some of the shops. Fortnum and Mason is somewhat overwhelming and a little daft, I must say.
Still, the weather was threatening drizzly and we came home, where my stomach played up a little and we watched Comic Relief. Exhaustion took over, in the end, particularly as we'd had so little sleep the night before.
This has led to something I am going to refer to as The Unpleasantness with the downstairs neighbour. You see, the night before repeated itself, and Richie lost his temper around 5am and banged on the floor. This was a bad move on several levels, and resulted in said neighbour completely losing it, throwing stuff at the ceiling, and eventually howling abuse through his front door when Richie went down to apologise. In the end, he calmed down a little, and with precisely no sleep under our belt Richie wrote an apologetic note and lefta bottle of wine in front of his door. Other people would acknowledge a peace offering, or at least take it. Turns out out downstairs neighbour is not this person, as we found out when we came back on Monday.
It meant the next day - Saturday, try and keep up - was a little muted as we got to Marylebone via a very complicated method as our branch of the Victoria line was closed. BOO. However, we got there, and decided to try and nap on the train, which was the point that the entire teenage population of Portugal boarded the same train. Well, it was over 100 of them anyway, on a school trip. We had a seat, at least, but it wasn't particularly relaxing journey.
Still, Stratford on arrival was beautiful and we wandered through the remarkably small town and little market, trying to find our hotel. We also got some cheap tickets for Hamlet at the RSC - only £5 each!
They let us check in early at our hotel, and after heading for lunch we fell into bed for a well-deserved nap, waking up for pre-theatre dinner, which was also very good. The RSC was only across the river from us, so it was a short hop.
I can't give a review of Hamlet, as after about two minutes of sitting down on our seats - special high seat you can't get past without the whole row standing up, natch - my stomach started to... ah... grumble and churn. It was a reasonably good production, and I managed to hold on through the famous soliliquay and then I interrupted things terribly for the poor actress playing Ophelia by making a demented leap for freedom and the loo. IBS can always be relied on to ruin important moments like this. I can't praise the staff enough, and I kept on insisted that Richie should go back in for the second half (only fifteen more minutes and I would have made the interval!) but he refused. Went back to hotel room, cried slightly, took painkillers and medication, cursed own body. I vaguely blame lack of sleep.
Anyway. The next day was our wedding anniversary, and we were having room service breakfast if it killed me (a distinct possibility, or so it felt the night before) but fortunately I woke up feeling much healthier. Richie got me the most wonderful present. He asked lots of our friends to send memories of our wedding day, and they all did, and he made a little book. Paper annuversary, you see? It was such a lovely thing,and I was so impressed.
Our Sunday was a lovely day. Aftert breakfast we headed out to see some of Stratford, had a good look around St George's church - I like an old church, what can I say - and explored the small town thoroughly. After another nap, we also explored some of the towns drinking dens, cos we're classy like that, and it was a bit cold. It was a really, really lovely day, and after we'd had dinner we went to the pub next to our hotel for some live music for St Patrick's day. All in all, a good wedding anniversary!
Monday was a touch hungover, but breakfast and a walk out to Anne Hathaway's Cottage sorted that right out, although I must admit a nap in the afternoon would have helped. Still, never mind. Tired but reasonably happy, we got our train home - once again accompanied by the teenage population of Portugal ARGH - before coming home.
So, not an entirely flawless wedding anniversary, but still one with many wonderful moments. Here's to many more to come!
The weekend, I will admit, didn't start as well as it could. Our downstairs neighbour went nuts and decided to bring home a lady friend, and talk ALL NIGHT. I do really mean that, it went on from 1am-11am the next day. Oh dear. So my lovely long lie in was slightly ruined.
But still, the day went ahead! We went to The Woleseley for afternoon tea, which was very posh and full of delicious food. I'd not been down Piccadilly before, and we had a good wander along the road afterwards, watching all the posh people and giggling at some of the shops. Fortnum and Mason is somewhat overwhelming and a little daft, I must say.
Still, the weather was threatening drizzly and we came home, where my stomach played up a little and we watched Comic Relief. Exhaustion took over, in the end, particularly as we'd had so little sleep the night before.
This has led to something I am going to refer to as The Unpleasantness with the downstairs neighbour. You see, the night before repeated itself, and Richie lost his temper around 5am and banged on the floor. This was a bad move on several levels, and resulted in said neighbour completely losing it, throwing stuff at the ceiling, and eventually howling abuse through his front door when Richie went down to apologise. In the end, he calmed down a little, and with precisely no sleep under our belt Richie wrote an apologetic note and lefta bottle of wine in front of his door. Other people would acknowledge a peace offering, or at least take it. Turns out out downstairs neighbour is not this person, as we found out when we came back on Monday.
It meant the next day - Saturday, try and keep up - was a little muted as we got to Marylebone via a very complicated method as our branch of the Victoria line was closed. BOO. However, we got there, and decided to try and nap on the train, which was the point that the entire teenage population of Portugal boarded the same train. Well, it was over 100 of them anyway, on a school trip. We had a seat, at least, but it wasn't particularly relaxing journey.
Still, Stratford on arrival was beautiful and we wandered through the remarkably small town and little market, trying to find our hotel. We also got some cheap tickets for Hamlet at the RSC - only £5 each!
They let us check in early at our hotel, and after heading for lunch we fell into bed for a well-deserved nap, waking up for pre-theatre dinner, which was also very good. The RSC was only across the river from us, so it was a short hop.
I can't give a review of Hamlet, as after about two minutes of sitting down on our seats - special high seat you can't get past without the whole row standing up, natch - my stomach started to... ah... grumble and churn. It was a reasonably good production, and I managed to hold on through the famous soliliquay and then I interrupted things terribly for the poor actress playing Ophelia by making a demented leap for freedom and the loo. IBS can always be relied on to ruin important moments like this. I can't praise the staff enough, and I kept on insisted that Richie should go back in for the second half (only fifteen more minutes and I would have made the interval!) but he refused. Went back to hotel room, cried slightly, took painkillers and medication, cursed own body. I vaguely blame lack of sleep.
Anyway. The next day was our wedding anniversary, and we were having room service breakfast if it killed me (a distinct possibility, or so it felt the night before) but fortunately I woke up feeling much healthier. Richie got me the most wonderful present. He asked lots of our friends to send memories of our wedding day, and they all did, and he made a little book. Paper annuversary, you see? It was such a lovely thing,and I was so impressed.
Our Sunday was a lovely day. Aftert breakfast we headed out to see some of Stratford, had a good look around St George's church - I like an old church, what can I say - and explored the small town thoroughly. After another nap, we also explored some of the towns drinking dens, cos we're classy like that, and it was a bit cold. It was a really, really lovely day, and after we'd had dinner we went to the pub next to our hotel for some live music for St Patrick's day. All in all, a good wedding anniversary!
Monday was a touch hungover, but breakfast and a walk out to Anne Hathaway's Cottage sorted that right out, although I must admit a nap in the afternoon would have helped. Still, never mind. Tired but reasonably happy, we got our train home - once again accompanied by the teenage population of Portugal ARGH - before coming home.
So, not an entirely flawless wedding anniversary, but still one with many wonderful moments. Here's to many more to come!
