May 1, Wednesday: [I've been gone over a week and finally decided it was time to start the journal. Really should have started it a few days ago when I was in a good mood. ] After three plane rides (Seattle to Washington, D.C., via Chicago, then New York to London) and one Greyhound bus ride from D.C. to New York, I arrived safe and sound and early (by 20 minutes!) at Heathrow. The backpack survived everything. If it hadn't I was in big trouble, considering the transatlantic flight would probably be one of the least taxing experiences the pack and I would undergo in the next year.
Air India was a pleasant surprise: good food, good service, and a movie in English (Sibling Rivalry, better forgotten though). The book by Paul Theroux (My Secret History) was pretty disappointing too. His fiction is starting to sound like his travelogues and the main character sounds a lot like him....Instead I talked with my neighbors, Anne from Ireland and some engineer from Sheffield. The airport security at JFK was pretty interesting, I had to let the guard snap a picture with my camera in the departure lounge, to prove it was a camera (someday I will be grateful of that reminder of my last moment on American soil, I thought as he clicked the shutter) as well as being forced to unpack everything in my carefully-packed daypack (much much easier than re-packing it!).
My former classmate from LSE, Sarah, turned up on time to meet me when I arrived in London and we had lunch with Vanessa, another old classmate, who said I could stay at her place. Unfortunately I could not sleep the first two nights, though Vanessa's housemates were always ready for a chat, no matter the time. I decided, then, that Thursday morning (tomorrow)I would head out for Bath (a place I had never been to during the two years I lived and studied in London).
May 2, Thursday: London to Bath: I did manage to sleep a bit on the bus ride. [Over the course of my travels, I would learn very well how to sleep on buses, a necessary talent!]
When I arrived I wandered around a bit, visited the old Roman Baths. These were amazing. The Romans had the art of bathing down to a science, with hot baths, medium-temperature and cold baths. There was a definite sequence which was recommended. The tour guides gave an enormous amount of interesting information about the baths. During the last century they came into vogue for English gentry to visit when they had particular ailments, as the waters of the area are said to cure certain types of illnesses.
After the Baths, I went to the Costume Museum then headed for the youth hostel. I met Karen from Sydney there, along with Diane from Melbourne and Jo "from near Rotorua" which is about as close as you can pin down a sheep farm in New Zealand I guess. She was about 70, traveling on her own. She told me she spends about half the year traveling like this, and it keeps her young!
After dinner in the hostel I went down to the river to take some pictures of the sunset. It was a really lovely view and I wanted to try out my new "panorama" camera I had bought before leaving home. I figured I could get some really spectacular photos, and read Paul T (thought I'd give him the benefit of the doubt and at least finish the book) while waiting. It got chillier, but not redder and I finally gave up and decided to head for the hostel. While waiting at the bus stop I looked back over the river, to see pink fluffy clouds, just what I had been waiting for (!), but at this point I just did not have the energy to go back to the river and take any photos. . .Back at the hostel I met up with Karen, Di and Jo and we stayed up pretty late talking. It turned out that Diane snored like you wouldn't believe! So loud it woke me up and I had to dig around in my pack for the little foam earplugs. They worked like magic and saved the day (or the night).
May 3, Friday: I went up to the Royal Crescent with Diane and Jo in the morning. It was not a spectacular as it had been made out to be. The Circus was much better. It was a circular road with row houses built around it, following the curve of the circle. They were in fairly good condition, considering how old they were, and probably incredibly expensive, we speculated. We spent the morning sightseeing and walking around the main part of town then after lunch I took the bus for Cirencester, via Bristol and Cheltenham. When I arrived I phoned the nearest hostel but it was shut, so I killed some time by visiting the Church, which was amazing and the museum of the old Roman town found under Cirencester, which wasn't so amazing. Had some cappuccino in a little tea shop then phoned the hostel again. "It's not on the bus, so you'll have to walk," I was told by the man who answered. He then told me it was five miles from town, but"we're open until 10:30 pm, so you've plenty of time to walk." I took a cab. I had come to this part of England, the Cotswolds, to do some walking, but carrying the pack five miles to the youth hostel was not what I had bargained for. The hostel was in a really neat old building, in an isolated little village with no shops nearby. To get there, we travelled along those roads that are so narrow, they are really only one lane and you keep hoping no one else is going to come from the other direction. The driver made a few wrong turns, but we got there OK. I went to check in, but apart from the manager, the place was deserted.
I went for a wander down the public footpath that led through some fields near the hostel. In this part of the country, there are public footpaths that lead through private property, known as right of way. You are free to walk on them as long as you respect the privacy of the owners. These trails are very popular for "walking holidays" as they criss-cross the region. Sitting down on a rock in this field, I felt that this is probably one of the few times in my life that I have really been all by myself outside. Usually there is someone else, unless you are alone in a room or the only one in the house. But outside, you can rarely be "alone" especially in D.C., where it is pretty dangerous to do so, especially at night. It was an odd feeling, almost spooky. I sat on a fence and read a bit, and thought about being alone. I liked it.
After a while I got up and decided to investigate the little village. I visited a very small and very old church, then continued down a small path past a flooded ford. I came upon a house with a Rolls Royce parked in front! It certainly seemed out of place in this little village in the middle of nowhere! It started to get dark so I returned to the hosted, worked a jigsaw puzzle in the common room (wow! major excitement!) then to bed early. I wanted a good night sleep so I would be ready for my "walk" the next day!
Next: Cotswolds, Back to London
All text and photographs Copyright (c)2001 Naomi S. Smith