Interior

Guild Chapel, Stratford on Avon

I had an extraordinarily early appointment in Stratford this morning. I was knocking on Vicky's door before 9:30am. My going to see Vicky followed the prompting of the peeps at my office, and since they detected encouragement was needed, they agreed to pay. It was a bright, cold blue day, frosty and occasionally slippery in the shade. It was odd sat in what passed for someone's living room, being primed to deliver evidence of a traumatic childhood. There was none to tell. It'll be something she promises to work on. Pending next Sunday I have a CD I am warned not to play in the car.

Returning to the blue cold street, I made my way along the river bank, past the theatre and then through Bancroft Gardens, halting once to allow a swan to hiss and rear at a passing dog. I was heading for Cath, merrily shopping, and now the proud owner of, I must say, a rather funky example of a 50s style overcoat in soft pink.

We wandered about. Cath was seeking inspiration in the art of giftware. All I did was follow or hopelessly answer I hadn't a clue what so and so might like for christmas. And so it was that our ramblings brought us to the Guild Chapel. So I nipped in. I was glad of a little warmth. I think the little chapel a gem. Consisting of just a chancel, with nave and tower above, the only fittings, apart from the organ loft in the tower and the altar, are the choir stalls, arranged north and south and in two blocks each a triplet of rising benches. Note the absence of seating for a congregation. The stalls occupy all there is between the nave and the chancel.