Bath and Beyond

Stellar day Wednesday as we decide to rent a car for the day and head west to Bath. Train fare is ridiculously expensive and I think it would be really neat for the girls to see some standing stones, too, though Nancy isn't sure. You can't frolic around Stonehenge any more and Avebury is pretty much on the way to Bath, so choosing was easy. No automatic transmissions at the Europcar down the block, but I reason that I'm practiced at UK driving now, so the added variable of the shifter shouldn't be an issue. I get the car early while Nancy rouses the sleepyheads.

Quick breakfast and we're off, though later than planned. The lack of GPS in our model makes navigating out of London a little challenging but the wheel in one hand, the shifter in the other, Google Maps on the phone between my teeth and we get along. We make Avebury by noon and run headlong into a gem of a pub, the Red Lion (shout out to Bob who frequently plays its West Van namesake). Food won't be served til 1230 which gives us a little time to spin around the stones. Unlike Stonehenge, Avebury's henge consists of many stones standing in an oval of approx 500 yards. There are separate smaller circles also within. It's a nice day for marching about and there are sheep grazing in the monument grounds. Nancy was right, the girls could care less about the stones but are content to wrestle and run and goof around. But I secretly believe they're taking it all in and enjoying it as much as I am.

A really nice, but leisurely lunch makes us worry about time. Nancy declares she doesn't care if we miss the Roman Baths but would be heartbroken not to see the Museum of Fashion (formerly the Museum of Costume). Interesting collection of clothes from the 17c and upward. 18c gloves particularly fascinating and on loan from one of the most ancient trade associations in Britain, the Glovers. Who knew? Both girls are taken with dressing up in period costume, complete with corsets (fitted with quick release life jacket buckles to make it easy on the masses). Only one is ham enough to be photographed.

Time does allow for us to see the Roman baths after all. I love it and get swept up in the walking tour for a while. They were extraordinary engineers those Romans. I learn that the Cauldarium was constructed with raised floors supported by columns of terracotta tile and walls of hollow brick. Heat was forced beneath the floor, super heating it, then up the chimneys in the walls heating those. Small pools of water in the room then steamed away creating a steaming-hot sauna. Olive oil was applied to the skin and once good an sweaty, the Romans scraped the skin and dirt and oil off with an iron tool. Gross, but effective.

An amazing supper found by chance at the Firehouse Rotisserie up the hill from the baths. Awesome handmade and wood fired pizzas, confit duck quesadillas and the most gorgeous heirloom tomato salad with buffalo mozza I have seen. With darkness descending it's time we rolled home. A few hours of straight M4 motorway and a couple navigational complications as we get back in London, but we arrive home weary, but content.