We were due in Stratford-upon-Avon to see the Royal Shakespeare Company’s musical version of The Merry Wives Of Windsor. But when we saw the size of our room, we thought we would stay put and summon the cast. They could do the show right here while we lounged in the room-for-four bed. And Judi Dench’s double could have cartwheeled from wall to wall for our especial delight.
We were staying at The Old Mill, 10 miles down the road from Stratford in Shipston-on-Stour. This was pure nostalgia: we know Shipston well and used to walk the kids past the mill on the way to collect fossils in the river. Years and years ago my sister stayed at The Old Mill on the night before my wedding. The place has changed hands a few times since then, and we noticed last year that new owners had moved in and spruced up the place. So it was time for a visit.
The Old Mill is now a restaurant with four rooms. We were staying up in the roof in a vast expanse called Normandy: sloping roof, thick beams (some of them plastic but you wouldn’t know if you were not told) and a wide-plank oak floor covering half of Warwickshire. No rugs.
Mistress Ford and Mistress Page could have plotted up the steep stairs in the cosy gallery; Falstaff could have been tipped from his laundry basket on the balcony overlooking the Stour and a lovely willow that grows aslant that particular brook; Fenton and Alice could have courted on that cosy sofa. (There was a discreet sign urging them not to bounce on the bed.)
We had chosen a busy night: there was a corporate party going on in the restaurant and a post-funeral gathering in the bar. But there was no problem with a pre-theatre dinner, they said. Soon a couple of scene-shifters, possibly with experience of bringing Birnam Wood to Dunsinane, toiled upstairs with a table, chairs, napery, candle, pot of freesias and cheerful smiles.
While we waited for dinner to arrive, we sipped white wine and went exploring round the room, each departing with a Theseus-type ball of string for fear of getting lost. I discovered an abundance of teas, delicate homemade biscuits and a wobbly trouser press that threatened to press your chinos by collapsing on them rather than squeezing them nicely.
We met in the bathroom, so large that you might be advised to remain in radio contact with the real world while sitting on the loo. You could, on the other hand, import your own treadmill, barbells and personal trainer and set up a gym. We just made use of the Molton Brown soap and powerful shower and then photographed the oak door because we want something like it for our minuscule front room.
The whole place, one errant cobweb notwithstanding, was startlingly clean. Having nothing better to do, we played with the lights to create the right ambience for Merry Wives and then flopped (but did not bounce) on the bed with some improving books.
A tap on the door: enter a spear carrier with a large tray. We had reluctantly skipped starters (£4.95-£7.25) because we did not want to fall asleep in the theatre so dived straight into the main (£10.50-£14.95): one roasted halibut fillet and one fine plate of lamb, served with tasty vegetables.
Dining in soft-lit style at the foot of a commodious bed suggested a honeymoon ambience; and certainly this night was more memorable than the three post-wedding nights we had in a dodgy motel in York all those years ago. We moved on to puddings (a very delicate crème brulée) and coffee, thinking this was rather better than other meals at equivalent prices that we have had in Stratford.
And so to the play/musical, which was a bit of a curate’s egg. After a Stratford show, we often end up in the Dirty Duck where my wife actor-spots in an outrageously embarrassing manner. But not tonight. We slipped back to the Old Mill in the rain. The corporate partygoers and the mourners had left, leaving space for us in the cosily, rather than chillingly, minimal bar where in deep chairs we enjoyed a glass of Chenin blanc before heading upstairs and crossing Normandy’s vast prairies to find the bed.
Breakfast in the crisp restaurant was a delight - variations on traditional bacon, eggs, mushrooms and sausages preceded by a fine fruit melange enlivened by little jugs of tasty coulis. It was only during my second cup of coffee that I noticed that all the table cloths needed a bit of love and affection with a hot iron.
We headed home along the valley of the Stour. At £125, the Normandy room was more than we would normally pay in Stratford. But the Old Mill has two rooms at £90 and we have paid that in Stratford for spaces that are busier, less stylish and much more cramped. And the late-night tranquillity of the bar provided the perfect atmosphere in which to consider why Merry Wives – The Musical did not work.
Way to go ...
The Old Mill, Shipston-on-Stour (01608 666 220). Double rooms from £90. Dinner around £20.00 a head for two courses excluding drinks.
