A birthday trip to Bath
Dec. 1st, 2016 06:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofastolatI decided that it would be nice to have a few days in Bath to celebrate my birthday. Unfortunately, what I failed to realise was that Bath has a famous Christmas market, and half the population of the south-west of England would be there. Apparently there was barely a hotel room to be had in the entire place, so travelling there for the weekend is a thing. Had I known, I would have arranged the trip for the previous weekend. Oh well. We still had a nice time. Here are some pictures that - unusually for me - are NOT of comical medieval animals.
Having left work a few hours early, we arrived at our B&B just after 5. It was an excellent one, located about a mile and a half from the city centre to the north, not that far from Beckford's Tower. (Beckford's Tower was closed for the winter, which was a shame. It's a mighty tower built in 1827 at the command of William Beckford, an awesomely rich collector of things, who declared "So I am growing rich and mean to build towers," and... well, did.)
Anyway, the road upon which our B&B lay was a magical one, since it was fairly short when we walked into Bath, but embiggened itself and became interminable every evening. One might be tempted to attribute this to the fact that the way home was uphill all the way, and was walked by weary feet which had been in museums all day. (I have never worked out why my feet seem more weary from two days strolling around museums than from a 30 mile walk, but they do.) However, this is just a distraction from the true reason. The true reason is here. Look! There, towering over Bath, commanding the road from our B&B, is only a veritable Dark Lord's Citadel!
Anyway... on Friday morning we walked into town and went first to Bath Abbey, which is absolutely covered with plaques. We started by reading every one, before realising that they didn't just cover one wall, they covered the entire place, so some, at least, had to be skimmed if we were ever going to leave before dark. Here are a couple that initially drew my eye, before I gave up photographing them and turned to comical animals instead.
I also liked the plaque to Lieutenant-General Manley Power. What a name!
After we left the abbey, we wandered half way around it, before deciding to get tickets for the tower tour. Thanks to some dithering, some misleading directions and some confident setting off in the wrong direction, this appeared to involve walking several times widdershins around the abbey - fighting our way past mulled wine stalls and sausage sellers - which felt vaguely wrong, somehow.
The tower tour mostly involved going up to the top and standing there in the cold looking at the view while clutching a warming cup of mulled wine. Nice view, though. The weather was lovely on Friday, though cold. I hadn't realised quite how cold, so had left the island wearing my mild winter coat, not my hardcore serious Winter Coat, and had no gloves.
Here is part of the market looking uncharacteristically not busy. It would have been a very different picture on Saturday.
We couldn't help but notice that the burghers of Bath have a secret lair behind the Guidhall - a circular room for plotting, entirely surrounded by other buildings. (Perhaps they're plotting resistence to the Dark Lord?) Since we were both playing Deus Ex: Human Revolution at the time (I've since finished it) we spent a while discussing how we would infiltrate the base. Hopefully none of our fellow tourists overheard.
Everywhere in the centre looked crowded, so we walked up hill, heading for the Assembly Rooms, but got distracted by the Jane Austen tea rooms en route, and had a very nice afternoon tea for lunch. Not that I was hungry, since breakfast had been large and lovely, but it looked too nice to resist.
We then spent the next few hours walking up and down the gurt hills of Bath. Up, first, since it was such lovely weather, with clouds forecast for the rest of the weekend, that I wanted to see the heartland of Georgian Bath sparkling in the sun. And very pretty it was, too, but the Royal Crescent proved just too big to make a good photo. Then we went all the way down again, so I could photograph the river, although the light wasn't right, so I didn't. (En route, we popped into an exhibition about 1816, the Year With No Summer.) Pellinor wanted to look at the market, in search of roleplaying bling, so I wandered around the outside of the abbey for a while.
Then up to the top of town again, back to Royal Crescent for the reconstructed Georgian house at No. 1 Royal Crescent, which was pleasant and interesting, although we were both distinctly dubious about many of the "facts" that the volunteers told us with utter confidence, but it seemed impolite to argue.
Then back to the bottom of town again for a quick pizza before the crowds got too bad. Then all the way up again, fighting past the dread influence of the Dark Lord's Citadel, where his hideous mind power turned the simple journey into an endless odyssey that took hours.
On Saturday, we went down into town again - the road had shrunk again, and turned quite pleasant - where we spent a few hours in the Roman Baths, which were heaving. It's all very interesting and well-presented, although I didn't take many pictures. I did like this drawing of an inscription of the birth of Asclepius.
And this lift sign amused me, too.
And Bladud! A rubbish picture, taken through a window, but what a moustache!
We then went up to the top of town again, and had lunch in the Assembly Rooms, followed by a visit to the musuem of the history of fashion. I liked the mirrors in the Assembly Rooms, where the middle panel was aligned differently from the outer panels.
We then went to the Museum of Bath Architecture, housed in the Countess of Huntingdon's Chapel - a lone Gothic building adrift in a neo-Classical ocean - which was very intesting, but empty except for us. They had a temporary display showing an architect's 1915 plans for the complete redevelopment of the city centre, with massive open spaces and a forum and mighty meeting halls. What particularly interested me was that his pictures of his plans included two war memorials, pretty much identical to the Cenotaph design used in Whitehall, inscribed in memory of the dead of "the Great War." This was in 1915.
We left the museum just before 5, and fought through the VERY dense crowds around the market. (I did not like this one little bit. On Friday, I was looking at the market and thinking, "it's not my thing, and I'm a bit surprised that so many people seem to want to come here, but each to their own." On Saturday, I was thinking, "get me out of this hell hole!" and "why on EARTH could ANYBODY want to shop here BY CHOICE?") Although we started our search a little way away from the market, and it was only 5 o'clock, it soon became apparent that every restaurant and pub was entirely booked up for the entire evening. Rather than endure a stressful search, we bought a nice cold spread from Waitrose, and enjoyed it in our room, with Prosecco.
On Sunday, we went to Dyrham Park, home of William Blathwayt, "one of the first professional civil servants, right hand man to King William III, fundraiser supreme to the throne, master of the army, the American colonies, and collector of all things Dutch." It was suprisingly busy, given that it was a cold, gloomy, winter Sunday, and the tea room was HEAVING. Here are two of my very many failed attempts to photograph deer - in particular, to get a good view of one of the antlered chaps, who kept on lowering their heads or walking behind their friends whenever I pressed the button. (And, yes, I DO have burst mode, and yes, I DO keep forgetting about it. This would have been a time for it.)
And then home in time for dinner. A very nice weekend, although next year I'll check for Christmas markets before making any birthday plans.
Having left work a few hours early, we arrived at our B&B just after 5. It was an excellent one, located about a mile and a half from the city centre to the north, not that far from Beckford's Tower. (Beckford's Tower was closed for the winter, which was a shame. It's a mighty tower built in 1827 at the command of William Beckford, an awesomely rich collector of things, who declared "So I am growing rich and mean to build towers," and... well, did.)
Anyway, the road upon which our B&B lay was a magical one, since it was fairly short when we walked into Bath, but embiggened itself and became interminable every evening. One might be tempted to attribute this to the fact that the way home was uphill all the way, and was walked by weary feet which had been in museums all day. (I have never worked out why my feet seem more weary from two days strolling around museums than from a 30 mile walk, but they do.) However, this is just a distraction from the true reason. The true reason is here. Look! There, towering over Bath, commanding the road from our B&B, is only a veritable Dark Lord's Citadel!
Anyway... on Friday morning we walked into town and went first to Bath Abbey, which is absolutely covered with plaques. We started by reading every one, before realising that they didn't just cover one wall, they covered the entire place, so some, at least, had to be skimmed if we were ever going to leave before dark. Here are a couple that initially drew my eye, before I gave up photographing them and turned to comical animals instead.
I also liked the plaque to Lieutenant-General Manley Power. What a name!
After we left the abbey, we wandered half way around it, before deciding to get tickets for the tower tour. Thanks to some dithering, some misleading directions and some confident setting off in the wrong direction, this appeared to involve walking several times widdershins around the abbey - fighting our way past mulled wine stalls and sausage sellers - which felt vaguely wrong, somehow.
The tower tour mostly involved going up to the top and standing there in the cold looking at the view while clutching a warming cup of mulled wine. Nice view, though. The weather was lovely on Friday, though cold. I hadn't realised quite how cold, so had left the island wearing my mild winter coat, not my hardcore serious Winter Coat, and had no gloves.
Here is part of the market looking uncharacteristically not busy. It would have been a very different picture on Saturday.
We couldn't help but notice that the burghers of Bath have a secret lair behind the Guidhall - a circular room for plotting, entirely surrounded by other buildings. (Perhaps they're plotting resistence to the Dark Lord?) Since we were both playing Deus Ex: Human Revolution at the time (I've since finished it) we spent a while discussing how we would infiltrate the base. Hopefully none of our fellow tourists overheard.
Everywhere in the centre looked crowded, so we walked up hill, heading for the Assembly Rooms, but got distracted by the Jane Austen tea rooms en route, and had a very nice afternoon tea for lunch. Not that I was hungry, since breakfast had been large and lovely, but it looked too nice to resist.
We then spent the next few hours walking up and down the gurt hills of Bath. Up, first, since it was such lovely weather, with clouds forecast for the rest of the weekend, that I wanted to see the heartland of Georgian Bath sparkling in the sun. And very pretty it was, too, but the Royal Crescent proved just too big to make a good photo. Then we went all the way down again, so I could photograph the river, although the light wasn't right, so I didn't. (En route, we popped into an exhibition about 1816, the Year With No Summer.) Pellinor wanted to look at the market, in search of roleplaying bling, so I wandered around the outside of the abbey for a while.
Then up to the top of town again, back to Royal Crescent for the reconstructed Georgian house at No. 1 Royal Crescent, which was pleasant and interesting, although we were both distinctly dubious about many of the "facts" that the volunteers told us with utter confidence, but it seemed impolite to argue.
Then back to the bottom of town again for a quick pizza before the crowds got too bad. Then all the way up again, fighting past the dread influence of the Dark Lord's Citadel, where his hideous mind power turned the simple journey into an endless odyssey that took hours.
On Saturday, we went down into town again - the road had shrunk again, and turned quite pleasant - where we spent a few hours in the Roman Baths, which were heaving. It's all very interesting and well-presented, although I didn't take many pictures. I did like this drawing of an inscription of the birth of Asclepius.
And this lift sign amused me, too.
And Bladud! A rubbish picture, taken through a window, but what a moustache!
We then went up to the top of town again, and had lunch in the Assembly Rooms, followed by a visit to the musuem of the history of fashion. I liked the mirrors in the Assembly Rooms, where the middle panel was aligned differently from the outer panels.
We then went to the Museum of Bath Architecture, housed in the Countess of Huntingdon's Chapel - a lone Gothic building adrift in a neo-Classical ocean - which was very intesting, but empty except for us. They had a temporary display showing an architect's 1915 plans for the complete redevelopment of the city centre, with massive open spaces and a forum and mighty meeting halls. What particularly interested me was that his pictures of his plans included two war memorials, pretty much identical to the Cenotaph design used in Whitehall, inscribed in memory of the dead of "the Great War." This was in 1915.
We left the museum just before 5, and fought through the VERY dense crowds around the market. (I did not like this one little bit. On Friday, I was looking at the market and thinking, "it's not my thing, and I'm a bit surprised that so many people seem to want to come here, but each to their own." On Saturday, I was thinking, "get me out of this hell hole!" and "why on EARTH could ANYBODY want to shop here BY CHOICE?") Although we started our search a little way away from the market, and it was only 5 o'clock, it soon became apparent that every restaurant and pub was entirely booked up for the entire evening. Rather than endure a stressful search, we bought a nice cold spread from Waitrose, and enjoyed it in our room, with Prosecco.
On Sunday, we went to Dyrham Park, home of William Blathwayt, "one of the first professional civil servants, right hand man to King William III, fundraiser supreme to the throne, master of the army, the American colonies, and collector of all things Dutch." It was suprisingly busy, given that it was a cold, gloomy, winter Sunday, and the tea room was HEAVING. Here are two of my very many failed attempts to photograph deer - in particular, to get a good view of one of the antlered chaps, who kept on lowering their heads or walking behind their friends whenever I pressed the button. (And, yes, I DO have burst mode, and yes, I DO keep forgetting about it. This would have been a time for it.)
And then home in time for dinner. A very nice weekend, although next year I'll check for Christmas markets before making any birthday plans.
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no subject
Date: 2016-12-01 08:16 pm (UTC)I, also, found taking a decent photo of the Royal Crescent hard!! And was disappointed that the year hubby and I went, the Georgian house was closed for refurbishment or some other such thing, but still, we had a fun time there!
I didn't know about the secret lair... here's hoping they succeed against the Dark Lord and his tower! :)
no subject
Date: 2016-12-02 10:38 am (UTC)I particularly like (a) the fact the victorians got it all wrong and it actually had a red brick barrel roof (Romans weren't stupid enough to want to bathe outdoors in the UK!) (b) the fact they can't get at the temple because it's under Marks & Spencers (or somesuch store) (c) the 'new' excavations under the pump room that required the pump room be supported on gigantic RSJs (it was new when I first saw it, but that was a few years ago) and finally (d) the fact the actual spring is at the back of the gifte shop, and not where everybody thinks it is. The gifte shop is thus always full of steam!