After I leave Dickens House, I walk down to Russell Square, hail a cab and head for the South Bank of the Thames where they're building a replica of the Globe Theatre.

"The Puritans weren't fond of theaters, so they shut the Globe down," our guide explains in an Irish accent that barely rises above the cacophony of buzzsaws and hammering that reverberates through the theater.

The theater isn't on the exact site where the original Globe was located, but it's close. And the building is faithful to the original where Shakespeare's plays were produced.

My mind takes a sudden turn.

In Shakespeare's day, commoners crowded around the stage, standing on crushed walnut shells and ash while they called out to the actors and laughed at the often bawdy situations in the plays. It was a cross between studio wrestling and, well, Shakespeare. Today, most "normal" people don't go to the theater. It's an experience that's reserved for the educated.

Suddenly, I'm humming "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" ...