A long, hot Bath

Leaving the huge landscape of Stonehenge behind, the intrepid travellers (Barb, Paul and me) made our way through the English countryside (and the Pom's equivalent of Waiouru!) to Bath.

Bath: ancient city of pagans, Romans, society of the 18th century (think the Duchess of Devonshire) and now, well, still the creme de la creme of English society. Our first glimpse was of a white city built on the side of a hill. Wikipedia tells me that much of Bath is built from Bath Stone, an Oolitic Limestone comprising granular fragments of calcium carbonate. This makes the stone reflect the sun, and turns it into a stunning, bright white city. Especially when it is a baking hot day - as it was when I was there.

Parking was a breeze, then finding the city centre almost as easy. After a quick lunch in a non-touristy pub, I joined a walking tour. These are free, and organised very professionally - given by the 'Mayors corps of honorary guides'. We started off in the main square, outside Bath Abbey - a fantastical church with amazing carved stone figures climbing up and down the outside - to heaven and to hell. I remember standing in awe, listening to its history, merely five hundred years old it was a baby compared with Stonehenge, but awe-inspiring nevertheless.

Walking through Bath, we saw Roman baths, architecture like nowhere else, and heard the stories of the city that had its heyday due to being the 'in place' for society. The Royal Crescent is huge. Built in a massive semi-circle, what fascinated me was the green park in front. Not that long ago, I watched an episode of Time Team where they dug up that very park. Seems amazing when standing on it, that the city of Bath ever allowed that sort of excavation.

We were lucky enough to see the inside of the Assembly Rooms: one thing took my eye here - a stunning chandelier. Worth a million pounds, it shone, sparkled, was just stunning in real life.

Walking back through the narrow streets to the square, I saw a woman about my age, with a little girl about Lili's age. Beautifully turned out, I wondered how a child would feel growing up in a place that felt to me like a well-preserved manor-house. Where there was grass, it was smooth, manicured, perfect. Where there wasn't grass, there was stone. I didn't see a single playground anywhere.

Bath struck me as a beautiful city, full of history (and a UNESCO World Heritage Site). But would I live there? Not a hope. And not just because the prices were comparable with London. Give me rough-and-ready New Zealand cities any time!