To wait or not to wait...

This was the question a few weeks ago when I made my way to Stratford-upon-Avon.

So, apparently this town is a bit of tourist trap - but, seeing as I'm in the area and all I made my way to the bard's birth town.

Now, of course, the weather would be typically English - and raining when you'd rather it didn't - but I guess that is the near daily hazard of being in the UK :p

The Royal Shakespeare Company had Hamlet running, and it was all sold out when I tried to book. However, I could always see if any tickets were returned on the day.

And this is indeed what I did. I'm not sure whether to classify this day as a total waste or not. I spent the better part of 2 hours sitting in a queue (with a book!) waiting to see if tickets would be returned (that was within my budget I must add!)

With one hour to go I was sitting there wondering is this really worth it - this waiting, when I could be doing something else. Seeing people come in wet sealed my waiting fate. I'd rather be indoors and dry than wander around a town getting soaked thanks much.

Fifteen minutes to go before the start of the show and I'd finally moved to the front row of seats in the returned tickets queue. By now, to say I was ravenous was an understatement - my bladder and my tummy weren't very happy with me. However, that weird logic that dictates once you've queued up for something you might as well wait until you get it overruled and I stayed put.

Good thing I did - five minutes to go - and costing more than I would've liked to pay - a ticket became available. By now it was like there is no way I sat in a queue for TWO hours to reject a ticket I can afford despite it not being what I'd budgeted for. A moment's hesitation (for a ticket that would readily have been taken by the next person in line) and I took it!

Three and a half hours later (with a super quick loo stop prior to the show starting, and food in the interval) I was glad I waited. The actors were superb! And my first bit of 'culture' since being here.

The rain had stopped by the time the show was done so I had a wander around the town - and I guess it's like any other quaint English village.

Of course, hoping the rain would've stopped for the day was hoping too much - soaked through on the fifteen minute walk back to the station (and that made it a grand total of getting soaked three times in one week...the joys of being a foot soldier...).

And that was Stratford.

Life always seems to be about waiting - whether it's being put on hold for hours on end, waiting to finally reach the front of the queue or simply waiting to see your plans coming to fruition...

Sometimes I wish there were something I could do to end the waiting, but hey - wouldn't be life otherwise would it?