Le sigh… it was a loooonnnnggg day. Started with a late wake-up call in Stratford (by 10 minutes) after a night in a king-sized bed made up with two of the oldest twin mattresses known to man; they both dipped in the middle and the springs could be felt through the ticking. It wasn’t all the comfortable and it took forever to fall asleep. But, alas, I was up and ready to go after a lovely hot English breakfast.
We were on the bus and on the go by 8am. I had to sit next to a guy because his wife and him were the last ones on the bus, so ended up sitting to a guy who not-so-affectionately became known in my inner monologue as ‘Twitchy McGee.’ Through the entire day on the bus he kept shifting and moving; what’s worse, he kept invading my space bubble. One minute he would move and his arm would be touching me, or he would shift and his thigh would be touching mine. Had it been a long driving day, there might have been a classic Elise freak-out move, the likes of which have never been seen before (by anyone but her mother, that is). Our first stop was in the town of Cotswold (where the annual, traditional fox hunt begins every year). We were there super early, so nothing was open, but is was nice wandering around the quite little town.
We left there and headed to the ruins of Tintern Abbey. We stopped there for less than an hour – our guide told us we could pay to go in if we wanted, but she didn’t think it was necessary. Shag that – with my student ID it was only going to cost me $3.50, and I’m sooooo glad I did. The ruins were striking, but I was blown away when I walked into the shell of the cathedral; there is no roof, no window, and the floor is carpeted with the greenest grass you’ve ever seen. The first thing that struck me was that this was a true house of God (it’s corny, I know); the efforts of man are pervaded by nature and it seems like nature wins – if more churches were like that, I might go. Oh, and what the hell was the tour guide talking about?!?!
From the Abbey we headed to Bath – we got into town, had a little bit of a drive around, but because of traffic, we got stuck in the lower part of the city for almost 20 minutes before getting to the Roman Baths. But, when we did get there, we got an audio guide and entrance into the baths themselves – it was packed though, so I was feeling decided uncomfortable. I grabbed lots of pics, but didn’t stay long to listen to the audio guide or read the information panels. The one thing that our tour guide (and the employees at the baths) told us repeatedly about the waters was that we shouldn’t touch them – they’re untreated, full of minerals/metals/god knows what, and you don’t want any part of the dysentery you might end up with if you splash around in it; inevidably though, I saw several people sticking their hands in the streams/pools to see what it felt like. We call that Social Darwinism in the Guest house, I’ll tell you what.
After booking in through the baths, I exited the museum and headed to the Pump House for lunch. The Pump House, attached to the baths, was the center of Georgian society in Bath during the 18th century. As I sat waiting (and it was a long wait – service was shit), I wondered who had tread on the floors, stood in the wings, and engaged with history in that very room. Hey, I’m nerdy, I’ve never denied it. After lunch, I wandered back down to the area we got caught up in traffic to look at a used/rare books and print store I saw – I couldn’t find anything to tempt me, so wandered back to the touristy area of town and had a cream tea at a tea house behind the baths (not a good as Richoux’s, but it hit the spot. I got to finally try souchon tea – I’m not to sure I like it, but it was smoky and unique, so I think it’s an acquired taste). I wandered the back streets and alleys, window shopping and got back to the bus on time.
There was an optional excursion to Castle Combe on offer this afternoon. Castle Combe is the quintessential English village – the houses are protected and must be maintained in their historical look, there are no above ground wires, and there’s a bunch of little streets. We got to wander around the town for a while, have a drink at the pub, and take all the pictures we wanted. It was the perfect spot. I wasn’t a fan of the forced socialization at the pub, so left after I was done my drink for another walk down the main street and another stroll through the church yard. It was beautiful. It took us 40 minutes to get there and another 40 to get back, so we only had 10 minutes after getting back to Bath before dinner.
The room here is classy and comfy, and totally wish we could transport this room with us. The only down side is that I’m right over the main door and right across from the elevators – it might be a noisy night, we’ll see.
The people on this tour are driving me a little nuts. Besides Twitchy McGee, I was sitting in front of a woman who would grunt or honk every time the tour guide would give us an interesting tid-bit or fact and her sister read every sign we passed and repeated the names of all the places we passed through. When we got to the hotel, I was out in the hall way and heard through one of the doors (in the most obnoxious American accent): “OH MY GOD. Do you know what I just found in the closet?!?! A FAN!” It’s like 10 degrees here at night – were you planning on turning on the AC? Also, the number of people sleeping on the bus is getting ridiculous – we only have about one and two hours between stops, so why the hell are you sleeping, besides which – you paid all this fucking money to see Southern England, why are you sleeping through it?!?! This is all to say nothing of the complaining that the old people are doing about how rushed and hurried we are. Yes, it’s true, we are rushing for place to place, but it’s just the type of vacation this is and, most of them have been on this type of tour before, so what the fuck? Some people (okay, those people are usually old people and Americans, which there are more than enough of on the trip) just like to complain.
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