Way To Go, Shakespeare

Back in England! We're just an easy drive north of Luton Airport when we're first stalked, then mugged by kismet. Heading through the countryside, with ancient abbeys flashing by, we sense the rooves (the quaint British spelling) of lovely homes turning slowly to thatch. Half-timbered dwellings gather and rush toward a town. We're driving through Stratford-Upon-Avon on the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death.

As we tour the historic sites, we find we're in most unusual company. Helen Mirren, Prince Charles & the Duchess of Cornwall, Dame Judy Dench--must everybody be in line ahead of us? If you come here, don't miss Anne Hathaway's house, with its noumenal tulips. Then enjoy a glass of London Pride while you carve your way through the beast of the day at The Old Thatch Tavern on Greenhill Street. (On the lighter side, try the Homemade Cottage Pie.) This pub is at least 500 years old. It's a startling answer to, "Hey, we're looking for a place that really knows its way around diners–15th century, maybe, steps from Shakespeare's house. By the way, we're in a hurry."

As we dine, the crowds on the street get larger and larger, lifting each second higher in the air. If "what's past is prologue," what's the future? Overheard: "Where did everybody park in Shakespeare's day?"

Horns, masks, stirring souls. All of which leads to an outdoor performance under the stars near the river, where the skittish Prince Charles takes to the stage and asks, "To be, or not to be?"

Tonight, we fly to Ireland and another coincidence. Dublin is in an ecstasy of mourning and pride. It's the 100th Anniversary of the Uprising.