The Globe Theatre

Today's main event involved a tour of the Globe Theatre.

The Globe Theatre, you ask?


The one where Shakespeare debuted 14 of his plays?



Well, no.

That one burned down in the Great Fire of 1666. And this one is as close an approximation of it as they could come up with, modern regulations excepted (it has fire exits, was built with cranes and the seating areas are labelled, but other than that, it's refreshingly authentic) and it was finished in 1997.

If you look carefully at the 12,000 some odd wooden screws holding the place together (comforting, isn't it?), you'll see that each one is a slightly different size and shape (if looking at screws is your kind of thing). That's because they were all, each and every one of them, hand made. Quite a crappy job to do, I think (I mean, how many wanted ads do you see for a wooden screw carver?). And can you imagine the splinters you would get from carving 12,000 screws? In any case, the poor guy sacrificed in the name of authenticity.

I can picture the conversation the guy would have with his friends.

"Whatcha doing, buddy?"

"Oh, I'm just carving some screws for Shakespeare."

They also tried to stick with the original materials. The seats are pine, and the plaster is as close to the original mixture as they could get. When they couldn't get enough Highland Cow's hair to furnish the requirement for the plaster, they had to settle for goat's hair. I just get the image in my head of some poor schmuck chasing a cow around the pasture, shouting "Gimme your hair!" But I guess that's just me.

The tour was quite interesting in itself, but my favorite part of the trip occurred in the toilet afterward (Get your mind out of the gutter!).

Luckily, I managed to get in there just before a primary school tour group. As I'm going about my business, I hear a little girl exclaim, "Hey, look! It's amazing! If you stick your hand under here, the water comes out!"

There was such wonder and excitement in her voice, and I was proud to be in the presence of a young person discovering one of life's greatest wonders: the automated sink.