Bath Time

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Yesterday we picked up our rental car in Windsor and headed west for Bath, the center of all things fashionable in Victorian times, as well as an ancient spa discovered and developed by the Romans way back when.  The actual Roman baths were uncovered (literally - the city had been built up over them) in the late 1800's, and the ancient plumbing still worked.

En route to Bath, we went in search of Highclere Castle, aka Downton Abbey to fellow fans of the BBC series.  

We took the scenic route, having located it on our map, and wound through some of the most beautiful farms and narrow lanes (like really narrow, windy driveways lined with tall hedgerows), knowing that we were very close, but unable to actually get to it.  We even followed a chartered bus (with no one on it - suspicious) and a couple equally out of place trucks, assuming (probably correctly) that they had something to do with filming the series.

Eventually we gave up on the scenic back roads, went back to the freeway, and followed the signs straight there - only to find a "Closed" sign at the gate.  An older gentleman came driving across the entrance bridge to hand us - and the other cars that had also just driven up - a visitors pamphlet and the news that we couldn't enter, even to see the gardens, "because of all the activity up there" - not actually saying that they were filming the TV series that day, but definitely hinting at it.  That was as close as we got.

We drove on to Bath, where we again took the scenic tour trying to find our B & B (the British are exceptionally stingy with street signs - like if you don't know where you're going, you ought to stay home).  Eventually we arrived, just ahead of a weather front bringing wind and rain.  We braved the storm to walk to a nearby pub for dinner, then settled in for the night, having awakened way too early that morning (3:30 am, in my case) - jet lag at it's finest.

Today was spent sightseeing in Bath, the highlight being a visit to a childhood friend of Vicki's mother, who left St. Helens after high school to become an airline stewardess (long before the term "flight attendant" came into usage) then married an antique dealer, eventually settling in London, then retiring to Bath.  She and her husband live in a beautiful home on Brock Street, which connects the two most fashionable addresses in Bath - the Royal Crescent and the Circus.

You can actually see it in this photo - it' in the middle of the straight row of houses at the top of the picture.

We had planned to just find her home and take a picture when we saw her sitting in the window knitting, so Vicki rang the doorbell and introduced herself (and us), and Charleen invited us in to see her home - all six floors (two of which are below street level).  It's an absolutely lovely home (understatement of the day), and she couldn't have been more gracious and welcoming, including answering our question, "How did you get from St. Helens to here???"

It was a great day, with only a few showers lingering after last night's storm (we even braved the open upper deck of a sightseeing tour bus without getting wet).  However, I lost all of the pictures I took because of some kind of glitch when I tried to transfer them to the iPad.  Won't try that again.  The ones I most regret losing are those of Charleen and Vicki.