What would Shakespeare think of Stratford today?

It's an early spring day and it’s the only day that I am allowed out of my tomb. It's a shame that they chose to bury me in my home town. I spent most of my life trying to get away from my countryside roots so the fact that they chose to bury me there is my damnation for all eternity. Last year I boarded one of the motor coaches but its occupants spoke in a tongue that I could not understand. There were many screams and flashes when I asked ‘Wherefore art thou going?’ followed by a stampede to the exit. So this year I am just going to follow one of these people in the hope that one of them mentions leaving for London or asks for directions. And these people are everywhere. They wander all about the church where I am buried, they wander all over my birth house as well as my wife’s house. But during the night the streets are deserted apart from the ones near the theatre where they still perform my plays. Ah, London, how I miss you?