Shakespeare’s Birthplace is every Bard buff’s delight

Even on a drizzly Saturday morning in October, the sleepy market town streets of Stratford-upon-Avon still pulled me in. The dark, half-timbered houses nestled close together, the thatched rooves with proud chimneys puffing out smoke; almost exactly as it had been in William Shakespeare’s day. My visit here was long overdue.

I’ve been a Shakespeare nerd for as long as I can remember. I vividly recall watching Shakespeare 4 Kidz productions on DVD in my family home, and I was hooked from the start. I’d watch in awe at the whimsical characters prancing on stage with glittery faces and fairy wings, speaking this incomprehensible yet distinctly beautiful language. Later in secondary school, I fell in love with Othello's tragedy—this story of betrayal, miscommunication, and deliciously deceitful dialogue.

But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
(Othello, Act 1 Scene 1)

And when it came time to choose optional modules for my English literature degree, you can bet I made a beeline for ‘Shakespeare and the Early Modern Stage.’

So when I found myself wandering the cosy rooms at Shakespeare’s Birthplace — the first place I’d planned for my trip to Stratford — I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to visit the home of my hero.

The house teemed with old English charm, from its period oak furnishings to the vast stone fireplace in the kitchen, where you could easily envision Shakespeare’s mother setting up the trestle table for dinnertime. When I ventured upstairs, I learned from our knowledgeable guide that children slept beside their parents until they were five or six, just as Shakespeare would have done. I smiled as I thought of this, looking with fondness at a tiny hand-carved cradle fashioned after an original Tudor piece.

We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep
(The Tempest, Act 4 Scene 1)

Strangely, it was in the garden where I felt most connected to the playwright. The rain was still spitting as I emerged from the house, ducking my head to fit under the low doorframe. I breathed in the crisp autumnal air and noticed how the red roses, pink dahlias, and purple larkspurs shone on this overcast day. All were flowers that Shakespeare would have recognised and maybe mentioned in his writing, and perhaps it was this timelessness of nature that stayed with me.

Shakespeare’s works are filled with vivid references to nature, way back to the forests in A Midsummer Night’s Dream — one of his earlier plays and my earliest favourite.

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
(A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act 2 Scene 1)

Leaving the garden behind, I realised that this visit had brought me closer to my hero in a way I hadn’t anticipated. It’s one thing to fawn over his words, but it’s another thing entirely to stand where he once stood, surrounded by the architecture and the nature he immortalised in his work. It’s amazing that Shakespeare’s world, like his words, has endured — living on in every planted flower, every paved stone, and every line. And though centuries have passed, his voice feels as alive as ever at his birthplace.

— A big shoutout and thank you to the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust for all the amazing work they do! If you’d like to hear about my experience touring Anne Hathaway’s cottage next, drop a comment below! —