Tuesday morning I had a funeral at Rosemount chapel in Cathays, close to where we used to live in Queen Anne Square. This was followed by interment at Pantmawr cemetery on the outskirts of Whitchurch. I last went there for an interment when I was still working at St John's, maybe fifteen years ago. The skies were cloudy but bright, but there was a cold biting wind. That's what I recall from my previous visit there.
My Wednesday morning funeral was at Thornhill crematorium. Clare drove up and met me after the service, so we could drive directly to Stratford on Avon to meet Kath and Rhiannon, and visit the Royal Shakespeare Company's theatre, where there's a marvellous educational exhibition about what is involved in theatrical productions from every angle. It's called 'The Play's the Thing' and takes a very child friendly approach. The visit was a surprise birthday treat for Rhiannon who turns fourteen tomorrow, and has signed up for GCSE Drama, having been already involved in a Youth Drama group since the end of primary school. Soon she has a part in a production of Midsummer Night's Dream, alas, when I am in Spain.
In the exhibition, costumes from many prestigious productions are displayed, there are video presentations and interactive simulations to make accessible every aspect of putting on a play and what is involved. It was a delightful experience. I had hoped we#d get an opportunity to look around the theatre, or perhaps behind the scenes as well, but that didn't seem to be on offer. The Royal Shakespeare Theatre is a very fine brick built early twentieth century edifice, close to the river. Not far away in the old town centre is Shakespeare's birthplace, and in every imaginable kind of way his memory is marketed, not just preserved. It's a lovely country market town, somewhat overtaken by tourism and global brand shopping, it seems to me, but it's fortunate that so many mediaeval half timbered buildings have been conserved, perhaps surviving the ravages of town centre modernism during the 20th century because of association with the Bard.
We went on to Kenilworth for take-away pizza supper, at Rhiannon's request, with an overnight stay, so we could join the birthday breakfast, before they went off en famille to Madam Tussaud's in London. The joys of a birthday at half term! We started a Monopoly game after supper, but this soon fizzled out when the Brit awards ceremony broadcast started. Watching some of this over the next couple of hours really made me feel my age. It's decades since I took any interest in pop culture and its personalities, so I'm totally out of touch, and find almost all the music un-inspiring, and many of its perpetrators exotic and bizarre. Many seemed to be getting progressively drunk as the evening wore on. Perhaps the audience of music and media celebrities was as bored by the whole thing as I was. Bed was a merciful release.
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