Stratford was very pretty...
Shakespeare's daughter's garden at Nash's House & New Place. (Nash is the surname of her husband.) It's quite Tellytubby-ish, if you ask me.

The Creaky Cauldron sells all these spells...You'll only know what's inside the package if you buy it. None of us did.

If music be..

..play on...

Shakespeare's birthplace, Stratford-upon-Avon is now mostly made up of shops with names all inspired from his plays...

We watched a theatre production by the RSC the second night in Stratford- Noughts and Crosses. A black girl-white boy love story inspired by (yeah you guessed it) Romeo and Juliet. It was good, especially with the lead actor looking like James Franco.OK FINE. SO THAT WAS IRRELEVANT....


Haworth was where we went to visit the Bronte Parsonage.
This is apparently one of the most photographed scenes in England-- the steep road in the heart of Haworth. It's fun going down, but going back up was bitchy. We had the cheapest hot chocolate (minus the free ones we always get at the hostel) in one of the eateries somewhere down there. Only 99p. We kept getting chased out, though. (Get your ass out if you don't order a full meal.)And of course, roads around have to be inspired by the Brontes' fictional characters...

At the farm near the Bronte Parsonage...Can you just look at the eyes??? I bet it was diseased.

These ain't food! They're soap!
See the three white doors? Latrines. 69 of them spread all over Haworth, shared by 26000 in the previous century.2nd floor of our Haworth hostel. It was previously the home of an aristocratic family with 7 children.I took the top bunk.Morning view outside my window before breakfast...

Haworth wasn't as bad as I thought, I suppose. In fact, it was pretty good. Bath was worse.

Bath! I did quite a fair bit of irrelevant shopping at Bath, when the highlights were supposed to be the Jane Austen Centre and Roman Bath Museum... J.A.C was lame, so we shall not dwell on it at all.

Roman Bath... The water's still hot after centuries...

Statues of the Romans praying to Goddess Solis Minerva...ok whatever. There were also scraps of pewter which the old Romans used to throw into the bathwater. The scraps had requests/curses inscribed upon them, eg; "O Goddess Solis Minerva, may you descend a plague upon the thief who stole my coins..." The Romans never misplaced anything, I guess. Everything missing must have been stolen. =/

The scariest night was at Bath!! After some issue about luggage, my friend and I realised everyone else had gone to the hostel while we were still stuck on the sidewalk. We had no frickin idea which way they went (it was that bad), our coach had left, and we ended up going the opposite direction. Better still, it was about 8pm and there were hardly any lights!

We clutched each other and relied on oncoming traffic for lights. I remember my buddy whimpering "Nash, we're going to die..." fuck, I didn't want to die in Bath!! I followed my instincts and asked her to follow me up a steep hill which (was completely unlit) and to our relief there was a sign that pointed us to our hostel. The damn hill was maha steep and the trudge lasted 5 minutes. When we got up there, my teacher was all "You mean you just got here??!" She was damn right to be appalled. Definitely a night to remember...