Bath

Coming back to London on the Stratford train I was seated across from a University of London student who made two hours go by in ten minutes; he knew everything, had been everywhere, and had strong opinions on any subject: a Brit version of John McQuillen; charming, funny and outrageous.  (Eric, he is studying with A.C Grayling!) He was appalled to hear that we were undecided about whether to go to Canterbury or Bath on our last train journey.  For him there was no question; Bath is far superior for many reasons.

The moment you leave the train station, Bath presents breathtaking visions.  This is a picture of someone mowing the Bath Cricket Club grounds.

Of course there are lots of friendly pubs; very unlike the ones in London.

A tour of Bath Abbey is a must do.

And the Roman Baths are amazing.  I usually avoid audio tours but this one is great; the British writer, Bill Bryson, is available on an alternate channel and his guidance through the baths is funny, smart and entertaining.

Lunch in The Pump Room puts you right in the middle of a Jane Austen novel.  And do try a glass of the water; its not THAT bad.

The Avon is pristine here.

Whilst Candace was photographing swans,

I was at a cafe that juts out over the river.  I struck up a conversation with the chap on the left when I saw he was wearing a Bath Rugby jersey.  Never one to hold back, I told him of my rugby days some forty years ago when I played for the Dallas Harlequins.  He told me that his club had just won the regional championship for the first time in ten years and at that moment the fellow on the right, their best player and team captain, came around the corner with the cup.  He had picked it up from the engraver and was on his way to place it in the window of the Bath Rugby Club shop.  They very kindly allowed a fellow rugger to enjoy their victory!

We have met the most friendly, generous and kind people over here; quite a culture shock.

Tomorrow: Charles Dickens.

Charles