Coventry to Stratford: 15/4/23

 I checked out of the hotel and walked with my bag to the Europecar hire yard, just outside of town and near Spon End, where I had walked before. A very busy bald man with a gloomy demeanour took my details and decanted me into a little Fiat 500, with gears, which I did my best to master on the short trip to a nearby laundromat. The car wasn't so bad, but with all the various detours and roadworks that didn't show up on the GPS, it was a fairly harrowing trip. Luckily there was parking near the laundry -- I'm getting quite adept at parking with my wheels up on the kerb, like they do here -- and I went in to do my load. There was another customer there already, and the Indian proprietor was in residence, and able to give me some change, so I did the washing and then put them in the dryer, which took 50p coins. I learnt afterwards that I should have given them an extra spin in a super-duper centrifuge machine first, but they came out all right, and then it was ho! for Stratford. 

Once again there was a lot of to-ing and fro-ing between roads and through roundabouts before I finally got out of Coventry. I had thought to call in at some scenic places on the way, but that was all too much for the GPS, so I ended up arriving in Stratford at about eleven. I couldn't see any parking near the guesthouse, so I went a bit further and ended up parked in a sidestreet in a new development area, where there didn't seem to be any restriction signs -- though I confirmed that with the parking patrolman I saw on the way out. 

I began by walking to Anne Hathaway's house. This is outside of town in an area called Shottery, which can be reached mostly by footpaths. A nice building in a quiet spot, with beautiful gardens, although Anne only lived here as a child, so it is more properly Farmer Hathaway's Cottage. I didn't bother paying to go in, but returned to town by the footpaths and joined the throngs of tourists in the town. There was a market in the main square, and I was able to buy a hat to replace the one I had lost. That took my last ten pounds, so I crossed to an ATM and verified that yes, I can withdraw money, which was a great relief. There are lots of nice buildings, including some from the fifteenth century, and on a road down to the Avon you can visit the church in which Shakespeare, his daughter and various of his in-laws are buried. 

The river itself is quite wide, and you can rent out pleasure boats. There is a chain ferry across as well as an old bridge, and an impressive new theatre building. Following a path back brings you to -- yes -- the canal basin, where the the sun was struggling to come out and there was quite a festive mood. I went back through town and had a beer at the One Elm Tree. This one had a bit more character than usual, and I am ashamed to say that I have forgotten its name. Then I walked back to the guesthouse, saw a map on the door indicating that there was parking at the back, went and got the car and put it there. There was even a garage I could have used, but it was so tight I didn't think I would actually be able to get out of the car if I did.

Back at the guesthouse I gained admission and was taken upstairs to a tiny single room with a separate toilet and shower; the toilet being so tiny that you can wipe your bottom merely by turning round. Like most of the guesthouse rooms, there is a radiator which only gets turned on at night when electricity is cheap; so you go to bed cold, lie in a pool of sweat from eleven pm to three am, and then wake up cold again. No food allowed in the rooms -- though this was later revised to no hot food -- so I went out about 7.30 for a snack and ended up having fish and chips in a corner restaurant. Much better than the last one, at least.

And so home to bed. The laptop has recovered, and I found that after it died the battery went on giving off heat for a long time, which may indicate part of the problem. I remain sore and windburnt, particularly on the eyelids.