Out on a bus at 10am (and I’d already written a page by then – but this was my first photo of the day)(the final totals were 147 photos and 7 pages of notes) a mural sort of thing on boards on Greenhill Street was passed by…

…and the art of Turkish Barbering was advertised by a shop on Wood Street, which led to a roundabout where a man on a platform wearing a microphone said some stuff about the events and their dates, and due to it having to be on a Monday – St. George’s Day had had to move this week; and then a very official looking brass band marched along playing their instruments – with a drummer whacking his drum very very loudly. Once they’d marched out of sight some little girls (8->12 years ish) started Irish dancing, Shakespeare’s ghost (i.e. a man with a fake beard who was covered entirely in white paint) was wandering around…

…as were a couple of community support officers in very 21st century fluorescent jackets with electronic devices on; Mum had wandered off for a coffee, the girls did another dance (which the man with the microphone said was because it wasn’t 10.15am yet), and a man crossed the road on a mobility scooter. Then a choir called Stamp sang a song I couldn’t remember the name of (their voices were the slightly high pitched ones of young children), another choir had started singing one about power when Mum returned with a cardboard mug of coffee that was dripping like mad (i.e. rapidly losing its contents) and pointed out a sign about Shakespeare’s Marathon tomorrow, and I noticed a ‘Dispensing Chymist’.

When The Saints Go Marching In was sung by a choir; some interesting bird shaped kite sort of things were strapped to 3 older kids (apparently representing the seasons – and one hadn’t arrived)…

…4 more people had odd animal heads on, the pavements were stuffed, and I was squashed between a lady, metal railings, and a mobility scooter. The commentator asked who was from far and wide (and a Canadian flag was noticed by him), Shakespeare was on Henley Street by then – with a sword, quill, what may’ve been a short stick on beard, and a male and a female accomplice…

…Mum quietly pointed out a child in a pram taking her shoe off; and then the 3 seasons wandered around a bit, the fire brigade brass band marched along, and then the 461 year old William Shakespeare (who’d been greeted by a singing of Happy Birthday from civic officers on the way) had another Happy Birthday very well sung to him, flags were unfurled, and 1 got stuck on its pole.

At 11am – the national anthem was sung; the 3 seasons wandered round more, I was still squished against some metal railings, the people with the deer, bear, donkey and rabbit heads on were waiting by the roundabout, and loud noises from the band of The Air Training Corps approached.

Then more processing was done by school kids holding flags with quotes from Shakespeare plays on them, the Lord Lieutenant was pointed out, the fire service band marched back up, and what may’ve been an absolutely massive Alsation squished his or her way through the crowd (with the owner only just clinging on); I noticed The Bear Pit Theatre, a Japanese ambassador to the UK, a man in a fluorescent jacket holding a flag with a fish on it; and some more people I forgot came before Morris dancers ended things.

We squished our way down Wood Street to the shopping area of Bell Court (which had a Libertine Burger restaurant in it); The Queen’s Head was on Ely Street, The Dough House was advertising intimate gastro experiences, a really tiny skew-iff wooden beamed house looked like it would be standing for a while yet, and Scholars Lane was mostly Shakespearean – apart from a massive boutique Hotel Indigo. Shakespeare’s School and Guild Hall was closed for a private event, the District Council stone building had a defibrillator outside, and at the end of Church Street was a house with a skull in the window.

A street that seemed to be named ‘Old Town’ had a very big 21st century Highway Maintenance van on it, Halls Croft was a wooden beamed place covered with wisteria, The Dower House was covered in it too, a Labrador did a poo, and we came up Trinity Street as dignitaries were leaving the church.

The organ inside the church was being played continuously by a human (and I was wondering what the differences are in the way piano and organ music are written), I heard some Spanish being spoken, a man (mid 60s) in a suit and tie said to me ‘this looks like a serious bit of journalism’ – so I whipped out my info card and explained myself, and while briefly chatting about organ playing, I was told there are more staves on the sheet music. The Clopton Chapel had tombs in it; there was a small folder of sheets of paper that people could write prayer requests on, a prayer for Pope Francis was on another board; and the organ player (stick thin and over 6ft tall) stopped and I had a quick chat to him: he said you get used to the mechanisms, but every organ is different.

When we left it was 12.25pm; a flobaddy gingery Labradoodle had a very long flobbady tongue, we came out the end of Chestnut Walk, and in the Firs Gardens a dog and a quite big grey cat were in a double decker pram sort of thing being pushed along by an elderly couple (and the cat was briefly gotten out and I noticed him or her having his or her bottom wiped). A woman on a bench had a baby under her waterproof; and on the street that also has the hospital on it, we stood by a bus stop, the traffic was described to me as ten times worse than when we started, a tiny Suzuki Jimmy went past, a police car had its sirens on, Mum was repeatedly saying ‘I want a bus’, and I realised I was beginning my fifth page.

Then a P&R bus went past and didn’t stop, we decided to head in the right direction on foot, and went down Alcester Road (passing something I forgot) and reached a bus stop opposite a fire station; Mum started whimpering, Slimming World was advertised on a banner further along Alcester Road, she sat on the verge and said she would sue the council for incompetence if a bus didn’t arrive; and at 1.20pm, a bus (with a banner for Amazon’s Last One Laughing show on it) stopped on the other side of the road and the driver said ‘has he missed you twice?’.

Then she started eating oatcakes and wondering why everyone looked half dead, a stick thin man (with straggly grey hair) who looked more than half dead limped past with a bulldog, and at 1.25pm a bus appeared – and did stop.

There were 9 other people on it; Timothys Bridge Road had an extremely burnt and mostly disintegrated building on it; then at 1.29pm we got off again (in the right place), 4 minutes later our car was moving, and some lunch was found.