Bath Time!

The extremely charming front window at Persephone Books

 I'm endeavoring to keep the momentum going by writing this quick (as if) post about our time in Bath though that means jumping ahead a few days in the Tale of Our Time in England. Our first full day in the UK included a visit to Brompton Cemetery and a truly abysmal "traditional Thanksgiving Dinner." I'm pretty sure that we spent Friday in London Proper as well. But the cliffhanger in the previous post was Bath and I've spent some time collecting Bath photos so Bath it is!

 Some travel tips if you wish to visit Bath:
1) Train tickets are going to be more expensive than you expect
2) Believe the nice man at Paddington who tells you you want Track 3
3) Do not, under any circumstances, leave the boarding area if you've been allowed access to it before the mobs descend
4) Do not go to Bath on the first weekend of the Christmas Market
5) Find and insist upon your reserved seats on the train
6) Pack a lunch

Sadly we failed to follow most of these tips so we were part of the mad rush to get to the train when the gates opened shortly before the train was scheduled to leave. We did not even think about finding our proper seats which led to an ugly scene later with the woman whose reserved seat I was in fact occupying. She was unmoved by my pointing out that the website clearly stated that having a reserved seat didn't mean you necessarily got to insist upon that seat and then I spent the next half hour, after Scott gave the woman his seat, feeling mortified by my own boorish behavior. I apologized of course and we sort of agreed to blame Great Western for the mess, but I still feel disgusted with myself. 

The train, then, was very crowded and so was Bath itself. It wasn't until we were leaving the train station in Bath that I realized I didn't have a clue how to find Persephone Books, the whole reason for our making this particular expedition. (I visited them at their London location a decade or two back and was eager to see their new digs. And to stock up on some books without having to pay shipping. Don't even think about bringing up the price of train tickets; your logic has no force with me. I got three books, a mug, and a fistful of postcards. Score!) We looked at a helpful local area map on the street, but since I hadn't so much as bothered to make note of Persephone's address, it wasn't entirely helpful.

Map of Bath

After a few minutes of wandering I spotted an Oxfam shop and, acting on instinct, went in to ask if someone there could direct us. The young woman at the counter looked at me blankly, but a slightly older woman (who looked exactly like a Persephone reader would) knew what I wanted and gave us detailed directions. We spent a few minutes in the shop and I found the David Lodge book that had come up in conversation with some London acquaintances the night before which I thought quite a sign. I bought it, along with a few cards. We then fought our way through the throngs of Christmas Market shoppers, maybe stopping at a tea shop en route, to reach my grail:

The clouds did not exactly part, but it was a fine sight.

I am quite sure that Bath is rife with charms beyond friendly Oxfam staff and Persephone Books, but the crowds really put a damper on our enthusiasm. Going in to any of the main attractions meant standing in line for ages and paying what seemed like a lot of money for dubious return so we mostly wandered the streets, admiring the architecture and signage. It is a pretty enough little spot:

Just like being in an Austen novel, aside from the cars

"David Livingstone dwelt here"

A sweet little park a slight distance from the madding crowds

Residents of the sweet little pond (Alex view of a moorhen)

Sadly, I can't remember this lion's story now. He was near a war memorial.

I wish now we'd thought to stop in at The Raven for a drink.

The Bath Abbey is, I assume, one of the premiere attractions of the city.

After all, it's where Edgar, first king of all England, was crowned.

This sweet bike and basket had me thinking wistfully of Bessie.

 I had sensibly asked the nice woman at Persephone if she could recommend a bakery to me and she sent us down some steep steps to a bespoke sort of bread shop where we were able to get one of their last loaves of the day. (It featured in our snacking over the next few days and it was lovely.) Happily, there was a fine cheese shop (literally, that's their name) just a few doors down from Landrace so I was able to do a bit more provisioning. 

Stairway traboule that led to baked goods and cheese

 We really couldn't want for much more after that--especially since every pub seemed packed to the gills (add a sporting event to Christmas Market and, perhaps, Bridgerton mania) so we opted to see about catching an earlier train back to London though, in truth, Bath was pretty darned enticing.

Bright lights of Bath at dusk

There was an endless line at the train station, but it moved briskly and we did, indeed, succeed in catching a slightly earlier-than-planned train back to London.

 But what of the Vermeers? The Turners? The tea sandwiches? More to come . . .