Stratford, Ontario

_{City Hall}

I like Stratford. It's an odd sort of town, lost in time in some ways. It's not linked to any highway, and there is daily passenger train service to the 19th century railway station. It is home to some flourishing local industries - a luggage factory and a ball-bearing manufacturer. It has three regular newspapers for 30,000 people. While there are big box stores on the outskirts, there are thriving local groceries and restaurants and bookstores. They even have an indepedent multiplex with tiny 80-seat theatres, showing first run movies.

It is a farming centre, yet also a cultural centre thanks to the annual Shakespeare festival. The festival drives the city and attracts tourists from around the world. It keeps the economy afloat and allows Stratford to remain in its odd little time warp. And yet, it has not gentrified it past recognition. Scanning the real estate ads, we saw Victorian homes with 6 bedrooms for sale for under $200K. An entire hotel and tavern downtown was selling for $250K.

But, it has created a kind of core of rich Liberal intellectual businesses, surrounded by the trappings of a prosperous rural Canadian centre. You can go into one of a dozen bookstores, or buy a ultilikilt, and get served by a bespectacled woman with elaborate Sanskirt tattoos. Or, you can sit in a diner with Mennonites.

It was warm and humid on Monday, when we arrived, but the temperature dropped dramatically. On Tuesday morning, we went outside around 10 AM and it was only 11 C. I thought it was wonderful, though it did necessitate a quick trip to get velvetpage a cheap sweater. Also I... um... had forgotten to pack a pair of shoes. I'd been wearing shorts and sandals on Monday, and arose on Tuesday to put on my fancy theatre-goin' duds, and realized I'd left my shoes at home.



And now, (more) photos!
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