Bath

English for the English?

England can seem superficially familiar. After all they share their language, history and culture with most of the English-speaking world : and customs and mores are often just the same. However, it is still a foreign country unless you are a native. It is useful to remember this before you make a complete ass of yourself by recounting how the baseball players spend some time warming up before the game by shagging flies. (look it up). However,it is good to remember that that familiar England is largely the product of what I refer to as "the Americanisation of England, the roots of which can be traced to the second world War. Nowadays Jolly Old England has largely been replaced by an absence of any real pubs and a Mcdonald's restaurant on every High Street. To find it requires real effort. So:

And then I went to Bath. And, it is one of the oddest places in England, along with Milton Keynes, which is just a little bit more odd. Why so, I hear you cry? Well, in reverse order, Milton Keynes was planned to be odd - oddly enough. It used to be some useless fields in Buckinghamshire, but they could not leave well enough alone so they turned it into Milton Keynes. Actually the concept was not all that daft. Let's take some fairly worthless acreage in Buckinghamshire, which is not all that far from London, and turn it into a show-piece - a veritable architectural wonder. London over-spill gone mad. It is simply unlike anywhere else in England.

Because they had a blank slate upon which to indulge themselves (BTW when I type “they” what I mean is the authorities - the government- the urban planners - the idiots who design things in little offices with no windows and less than fragrant ambience - the powers that be. If I mean something else I will tell you before you get confused) they drew on the worst of all worlds. I can see what they were thinking - let’s try to make Milton Keynes look like those really neat American cities with loads of parking in front of the stores and offices. And then they threw in the very un-American round-a-bouts just to make it interesting! The result is a monstrosity of a hodgepodge.

Mind you my opinion is only based on one brief visit. Once was enough.

Before the advent of sat nav negotiating MK was almost impossible because everything looks the same. There are no discernable features or landmarks to take your bearings from. You drive from one roundabout to another which looks just like the one you left 30 seconds ago. Most frustrating of all was the fact that I was only there on an errand for number two son. I left almost wishing he hadn't been born.

On the plus side MK is not too far away - just pass Cambridge and keep going for a bit. Actually it's about 125 miles - you go past Cambridge and Bedford and you just kind of run into it. Takes a couple of hours at the most.

I digress. I really want to discuss Bath or as the Romans called it Aqua Sulis. Bath is the largest city in the county of Somerset, England, known for and named after its Roman-built baths. In 2011, the population was 88,859. Bath is in the valley of the River Avon, 97 miles west of London and 11 miles south-east of Bristol.

It is altogether much farther than Milton Keynes, both in distance and in substance. Yet there are some surprising similarities. Let's do the differences first.

They are far more interesting.

As Milton Keynes is very new, Bath is very old. But, even though the Romans found solace in the mineral waters, the real boom in Bath 's fortunes was very much an eighteenth century phenomenon.

Bath is the largest city in the county of Somerset, England, known for and named after its Roman-built baths. In 2011, the population was 88,859.[2] Bath is in the valley of the River Avon, 97 miles (156 km) west of London and 11 miles (18 km) south-east of Bristol. The city became a World Heritage site in 1987.

The city became a spa with the Latin name Aquae Sulis ("the waters of Sul") c. 60 AD when the Romans built baths and a temple in the valley of the River Avon, although hot springs were known even before then.

Bath Abbey was founded in the 7th century and became a religious centre; the building was rebuilt in the 12th and 16th centuries. In the 17th century, claims were made for the curative properties of water from the springs, and Bath became popular as a spa town in the Georgian era. Georgian architecture, crafted from Bath stone, includes the Royal Crescent, Circus, Pump Room and Assembly Rooms where Beau Nash presided over the city's social life from 1705 until his death in 1761.

Many of the streets and squares were laid out by John Wood, the Elder, and in the 18th century the city became fashionable and the population grew. Jane Austen lived in Bath in the early 19th century. Further building was undertaken in the 19th century and following the Bath Blitz in World War II.

By road it's actually easier to get to Bath than Milton Keynes, it just takes longer. Take the A11 M11 to the M25, skirt London to the M4, drive west and you can't miss it, even though the last 20 miles off the M4 is a little bit tricky. From the M4 the process is to climb a series of hills until you can look down from the heights to find Bath nestled in a valley. A river runs through it. It's called, not surprisingly, the Avon. I've lost track of the number of rivers in England named Avon. For a very good reason, there are 5 Avons in England (including the more famous one in Warwickshire - Shakespeare country) 3 in Scotland and one in Wales - which translates as river river in Welsh. The result is that V

Bath lies in a bowl with fairly steep hills forming the rim.

Using my sat nav I went straight to my hotel. There ended the easy bit.

As I was on my own, I had booked a budget hotel. Budget, but not too far from the centre of Bath. OK not budget - cheap. I succeeded geographically speaking. A short walk led me to what I perceived to be Bath. I wandered around for 10 minutes to get my bearings. Secure in the knowledge that I could find my way back to the hotel, I tried Google maps to locate the far more salubrious guest house my friends had booked.

2I like to think that I'm pretty au fait with technology. My phone made a fool of me. That and my over - optimistic appraisal of standard facilities available at budget hotels in Bath. I was trying to use the "walk feature" of Google maps to find my way to the aforesaid friend's guest house. Big mistake. I got nowhere: but did succeed in almost draining the battery. Back at the hotel I found they had no USB connection points. I had to sit in the car with the engine running to get some charge into the phone. Good thing I had lots of petrol. After getting some charge into the phone I decided to try again. Firing up Google maps I set off and found that the walk setting on Google maps is puppy plop. I wandered about for nearly an hour and achieved nothing except for coming to the realisation that Bath is one weird place.

All the buildings are made of the same material - a sort of cream - coloured sandstone. I mean all as in every building actually looks the same. It's like wandering around inside a straw-coloured globe. Added to this there are no real street signs. Now plug in the absence of any consideration of tourists. I tried to buy a map, thinking I could navigate by the old-school method. There are no curio shops or even a news agents. They simply do not exist in Bath.

Fortunately, I managed to contact my friends whose train was somehow lost and they had not even made it to the Bath station. That was good really, for I had no idea where the station was and no map with which to find it. Magic.

Finally I got a message from the travellers saying they were going to their guest house and I should meet them there. I was like a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest.

Summing up: I was effectively lost, tired, bewildered and without any means of either finding my friends or returning to my hotel.

At this point, Bath had lost what little appeal it may have ever had. I was in the last chance saloon. I managed to Google taxis in Bath. I managed to get them to answer the phone - eventually. Now I had to explain where I was, without any reference to landmarks or a street sign. (did I mention that Bath does not do street signs or any discernable help to tourists at all?)

Thought I did.

11The best I could do is say that I was on a sort of main drag just outside the entrance to some sort of park. I answered the questions the dispatcher asked and waited with a hopeful look of gormless optimism radiating from my red, embarrassed face. And I waited. And waited. Nothing happened. I called again. I was told my taxi was there. It clearly wasn't. Dispatcher had another idea where I was. I waited and waited and waited. Some time later what looked like might be a taxi came down the road, so I flagged it down. It was a taxi, but not mine! I waited some more, rang the dispatcher again, and waited. (have I mentioned that the O2 mobile signal in Bath is pants?) By, what I can only construe as a miracle, a taxi arrived. The driver looked as perplexed as I. He explained that in the summer when the university was on vacation the availability of taxis was very poor. (shit, buddy you're telling me!) I resisted the temptation to ask about the absence of street signs and the plight of the unsuspecting tourist who may be visiting your fair community.

To further improve my chances of not repeating the fruitless efforts to navigate the maze which passes for Bath: I watched carefully as the taxi wove its way to my destination, hoping this may benefit me in the near future. It did serve to reinforce my mantra that Bath is weird and I was well and truly lost.

We went for a nice meal in the evening and to my great relief we were so close to my hotel that I was confident enough to send the others off in a taxi and walk back to the hotel.

Over the next few days I gradually got the hang of Bath. Bath has no cathedral, but since there is a Bishop of Bath and Wells there is Bath Abbey - which serves the same purpose. It's almost central and easy to find. And you can spit and hit the Roman baths from the west door. A five minute walk will cross the Pulteney bridge, and another hundred yards, turn left on Henrietta Street and on the right is the Redcar Hotel.

As long as I didn't stray too far from these obvious landmarks, I was fine. We did the obligatory sightseeing bus trip, and I distinctly remember thinking this looks familiar, I must have been lost around here - somewhere. We also did the Skyline sightseeing tour and from that perspective a far greater understanding of the geographical features of Bath was gained.

On reflection I realised that after my first excursion and return to charge my phone, I should have found the post code for my friend's guest-house and driven there and waited for them to show up. That would have been a far more sensible plan. Too bad I wasn't smart enough to see that at the time. As I recall my thought process I think I was put off by the fact that the train carrying friends was late. Would that I had simply asked at the desk for directions to the station perhaps I might have saved my poor feet and learned some humility at the same time. I did not.

(aside : I have learned that Google docs does not like the subjunctive mood, it constantly underlies it as an error. Numpties! )

We had a very pleasant meal and next morning I met the others just outside the Roman baths. They queued to get in, but I had to hit the road. I checked out and retraced my route back to Norfolk. 

Good thing it is Normal for Norfolk!