Ah yes. That's why I moved here.
Bath! I really liked this little city: all sorts of history, eminently walkable, incredibly pretty. It's heavily Georgian in flavor, having been commandeered as a luxury spa town by the monied folks of that period, meaning there's a whole lot of this wherever you go:
Oh, all right, so that last one was the Royal Crescent, not quite representative of the average flop in Bath. Actually, I unearthed a number of interesting factoids when sitting down to write about it:
-The façade was designed first and then divvied up and sold; the homeowners were then free to hire their own architects and custom-build the interiors, resulting in an interesting hodgepodge of styles when the structure is viewed from the back.
-Originally just the Crescent, it was dubbed the Royal Crescent in the late 18th century after Prince Frederick spent some time as an inhabitant.
-The architects of the exterior, a father-son team both named John Wood, were seriously interested in Freemasonry and the occult. The Royal Crescent, together with their nearby project of the Circus (on the right, a ring of townhouses broken by avenues into three segments), represent the sun and moon, and the Circus with one of its avenues and an adjoining square to the south form the shape of a key. (Thanks to Wikipedia for these tidbits.)But for as fascinating as it is to run across Masonic symbolism writ large in a city's architecture, that's not really the main drawing point of Bath. No, that honor belongs to these two giants:
Interestingly, there's no camera tricks or Photoshopping involved in that shot: Bath Abbey and the Roman Bath complex really are neighbors, the medieval and the ancient worlds juxtaposed, and themselves occupying a site older still, dedicated by Britons of the Iron Age to the Celtic goddess Sulis (hence the town's old Latin name, Aquae Sulis, or the waters of Sulis). The Romans, on their arrival, conflated Sulis with Minerva/Athena, took over the shrine, and built their bathhouse over the hot spring around 60-70 AD; the Christians came to town a few centuries later and set their abbey all but on top of the bathhouse; and the rest is history (har!).
The current bathhouse is an 18th century construction, and you start your tour with a walkaround of the balcony above the pool, gradually making your way down to the level of the bath and then to the subterranean level of what used to be the open courtyard of the bathhouse. You are effectively descending into history, and by the time you reach the softly-lit hush of the basement courtyard, and try to imagine sunlight and hubbub instead of the burbling of the hot spring which is the only background noise, that history is nearly palpable. Looking at the spring itself (below), which is at a constant low simmer as rainwater from centuries ago finds its way up from thousands of feet underground, is like watching bubbles of the past percolating up to the surface and finally escaping. It's eerie, but beautiful.
A moment in the sun - and tourists' viewfinders - and off it goes.
Of course, the hot spring isn't the only important body of water in Bath. The city is built on the River Avon (not to be confused with the Avon of Stratford fame).
This gull was making serious eyes at me. Or perhaps at my sandwich.
Along with the Kennet and Avon canal -
- it forms a navigable waterway all the way to the Thames and thereon to London. It is also spanned by one of Bath's most recognizable landmarks, the Pulteney Bridge:
which links the Holburne Art Museum on one side of the river
with the Abbey. (Yikes. I think my narrative-to-photo ratio is starting to get a little lopsided.)
Do you recall what Eddie Izzard said about Europe and its castles? (If not, go refresh your memory. Right now. I'll wait.) While there is obviously an element of hyperbole to it, it's actually truer than I expected. I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of this country, and still, upon setting foot in Bath Abbey, my first fleeting thought was something along the lines of, "Huh. Another abbey."
Despite this initial (inexcusable) ennui, the beautiful details soon began to assert themselves amidst the towering grandeur of the place - the fan vaulting of the ceiling, for instance, or the spectacular East Window, or the beautiful little chapel off to one side of the chancel.
In fact, the more I investigated its nooks and crannies, the more I liked this abbey in particular. I'm not sure if it was the friendliness of the docents, the modern touches and exhibits that brought a sense of currency to the place, or just how warmly it glowed on a sunny morning, but it felt more alive and personal than most old church buildings I've been in. Which, for a site that hosted the coronation of King Edgar the Peaceful back in 973 AD, is rather saying something.
| And those, in a nutshell, are the highlights of my outing to Bath. Honorable mention: a visit to the Jane Austen Centre (who it turns out only lived in Bath for five years, out of necessity, didn't really enjoy the experience, and died soon after, but I guess a claim to fame is a claim to fame). Lots of walking, which is good, as I partook of the requisite Sally Lunn bun (basically an overpriced brioche roll claimed to have been invented by a French émigré some 400 years ago) for tea, not to mention found one of the best chippies I've had the greasy pleasure of frequenting. |  |
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A handful more photos here, if you're interested.
