Bath

The Circus

Bath, United Kingdom – My first glimpse of the town came from my seat on the train we took from London’s Paddington station into the countryside of south-west England.

After miles of rolling paddocks and occasional villages populated by semi-detached homes, Bath appeared as a shining, golden town, its sand-coloured terraces stretching away along a green hillside.

Closer up it looked no less impressive. Jacq and I strolled through the town on our way to the YMCA and were captivated with the layout, the architecture and the views across the valley.

The town had managed to keep its sense of history. Centuries old terraces line the streets. Sure, Sainsburys, Starbucks and other chain stores inhabit some of the buildings, but by the looks of things they’ve not been allowed to build the prefab shops that had sprung up in the other towns we’d passed. Instead they (mostly) blend in.

Bath is also conveniently compact. Between the train station, our room at the Y and the river were all the major tourist sights. In two days we saw the Roman Baths, the Pulteney Bridge and weir, Bath Abbey, the Circus, the Crescent Costume Museum, Assembly Rooms and half a dozen other historical sites.

And these were just some of the attractions. Most of the museums charged between £5 and £12 for entry so we only saw a couple.

Of course, the Roman Baths is a must see in the town. After watching the queues stretch around the block on the Sunday, we arrived early on Monday to get in before the tour buses arrived from London.

Many of the attractions in Bath had a free audio tour for visitors. At the baths we were treated to the slightly absurd sight of dozens of people shuffling around with a mobile phone-shaped set clamped to one ear. You could choose between the official commentary, a children’s version or a guest tour by Bill Bryson.

The Roman Baths are a museum piece now. The blue-green water and the ore-stained brick work around the pools are just for looking at. The real bathing happens at a flash day spa around the corner. But we were able to get a little bit hands on in the Pump Room after the tour by tasting the spring water. Served warm and frothy from calcium encrusted taps, Jacq likened the taste to a glass of water with dissolved aspirin.

My favourite part of the trip was a midday hike up the eastern hills into the farms overlooking Bath. We came across some rather posh cows, who, unlike their curious Australian relatives, showed no interest in us.

On the walk back down we came across one of the many canals that dot the English countryside. Long, narrow houseboats lined up moored to the banks. Their owners seemed to be a mix of nomadic retirees or gypsy ferals.

I decided there and then a fitted out narrow boat on a Gold Coast canal should be my next Australian residence.