It seems like every day is mysteriously the best day of the entire trip. I know that that's impossible, but I actually can't pick out a favorite right now. I suppose last Thursday is the 'worst', only because I was on a plane or public transport until almost 3pm London time...but as soon as I had showered, everything was fine, and it's just kept getting better.
Today was Bath -- I had planned to go this Friday, but decided that the weather is so gorgeous that I should take advantage of it. And today was absolutely lovely -- over seventy degrees, barely a cloud in the sky, just the occasional (and v. welcome) light breeze as I strolled through the town.
Bath was one of the premier destinations for the fashionable crowd in the early 1800s, fueled in part by their desire to 'take the waters', which was supposed to help with all sorts of ailments. But unlike the Romans before them, the main purpose was not to bathe in them (although that also happened); instead, they drank the waters in the Pump Room, which was constructed for that purpose. They also attended balls in the Assembly Rooms, admired the newly-constructed Royal Crescent, and promenaded along the River Avon.
So I went to Bath, intent on experiencing all of these things. My first stop was No. 1 Royal Crescent, one of the townhouses on that famous semi-circular strip that was the premier address in Bath. Few of the visiting aristocrats owned houses in Bath; they let them for the season, which ran during the winter months, before returning to homes in London or the countryside. No. 1 Royal Crescent briefly housed the Duke of York (the Prince Regent's brother), and has now been turned into a museum of Bath/Regency living. I couldn't take photos, but I did take copious notes -- and the guides in each room were some of the most pleasant, talkative, excited guides I've ever had, clearly thrilled to point out anything and everything of interest. I also listened to a brief talk given by some American girl (appeared to be a college student), who had done some research on one of the women depicted in a painting in the house. Her research seemed sound, but she talked way too fast (hypocritical of me, I know), and I enjoyed hearing the elderly British tourists tittering when she mispronounced 'Edinburgh' and 'Thames' and said that Nelson fought in the Battle of Trafalgar Square. Spiteful of me, but I can't help it.
After finishing up with the Royal Crescent, I went to the Assembly Rooms. They now conveniently house the Bath Museum of Fashion, which was fantastic -- they had a multitude of interesting dresses and suits, and a great audioguide. I was also able to see the main ballroom, card room, and tea room of the old Assembly Rooms, and it was fun to picture what it must have looked like when it was full of dancers, chaperones, musicians, servants, etc.
I then strolled back toward the older part of Bath, stopping briefly to admire the River Avon -- the Pulteney Bridge spans the river, and since the bridge is an obvious copy of the shop-lined Ponte Vecchio in Florence, it was lovely to see. But I didn't have time to dally -- next on the list was the Roman Baths and Pump Room.
Even though 'Roman' is in the name of the 'Roman Baths', I kind of forgot that that's what they were all about -- I've been in such an orgy of Regency-period history that it's been easy to forget about the thousands of years of British history that came before George IV and the melodramatic overindulgence of high society in the early 1800s. But the Roman Baths were impressive, almost to a haunting degree -- to some extent it reminded me of the Coliseum, which probably topped my list of favorite attractions in Italy (other than the gigantic steak I had one night in Florence, but I had been in India for three months at that point, which is why 'steak' managed to beat out all of Venice in my affections). They've done an excellent job with the preservation and presentation -- the audioguide had hundreds of little commentaries, and if I had had the time, I probably could have spent several hours just listening to the audioguide. But it wasn't meant to be -- and just seeing the baths was in some ways better than listening to all of the guide stuff. It was just so cool walking through these Roman ruins, knowing that people were making pilgrimages to the site two millennia ago from all over the Roman empire, back when getting to Bath would have been a difficult and dangerous undertaking, unlike now, when the worst thing that happened to me was a delayed Underground train.
I sampled the waters in the Pump Room for myself -- and I have to say that they seem unlikely to be that helpful for illness. Then again, if my parents had given me Bath's waters to cure my coughs as a child, it probably would have had the same effect as what they did give me -- just like 'the recipe', which was a capful of Black Velvet whisky in a small glass of Coke, the Bath waters would have made me suppress my cough just to avoid another treatment. Bath's waters taste a lot like warm, salty bathwater, and I don't recommend them.
But, I had tea and sandwiches in the Pump Room with my glass of the waters, and while the service seemed rather surly, the room was enchanting. Then, I made a quick swing through Bath Abbey, conveniently located next to the Roman Baths (where the Roman curators are likely secretly praying for a disaster to befall the Abbey so that they can excavate under it, since they suspect there are many more ruins there but can't get to them). The Abbey was built by Elizabeth I to replace a much older abbey that her father had destroyed during the whole break-up with the Pope, and it was nice but couldn't compare to St. George's at Windsor.
The reason I was in such a hurry was because I wanted to get back to London by around seven -- tonight was the only night of the month that Sir John Soane's Museum is open from 6-9 for a special candlelight opening. Soane was an architect during the Regency period, and he donated his house virtually intact, which has been preserved ever since. Because everything's out in the open, like someone's still living there, and v. fragile, they're pretty serious about limiting crowds -- so I stood in line outside for an hour, and then felt like I had some of the rooms almost to myself. The line did provide some amusement; one girl got in line behind me, stood for three minutes, called a friend, said 'getting a bit of culture is tedious beyond belief', and left. Then, when I was finally at the front of the line, these two drunk Russian teenagers showed up, tried to walk straight in, then continued to stand on the steps, allowing people to leave but not letting anyone in, and pretending not to understand the guard when he told them to leave. So I had to wait until the kids finally took off while the guard was on the phone with the police before I could be admitted.
But when I got inside, it was pure magic -- Soane was an extraordinary collector, and because he was an architect who believed in clean, classical styles, he had turned a whole townhouse into a virtual museum even during his lifetime so that he could use the pieces to inspire himself and his students. Various pieces of Greek and Roman ruins lined the walls, and he had thousands of beautifully-bound books in the cases lining many of the main rooms. He had this quaint little study that I lusted after -- really no bigger than a closet, but looking into this interior skylight/well filled with plants and pieces of sculpture. There was a fantastic eight-day chronometer, some lovely stained glass on a glazed/enclosed balcony/'loggia' along one side of the drawing room (with a note that most of the glass was a reproduction after being damaged by 'enemy action' in 1941). He had the sarcophagus of Seti I (if I remember correctly) at the bottom of another interior courtyard, with this huge cast of a famous statue of Apollo facing across the second level of the same courtyard.
The best room, though, was the picture gallery. The guide ushered a bunch of us in, closed the door, and proceeded to surprise me. The paintings on the walls were of 'The Rake's Progress', each of which were interesting in their own right. But, it turns out that three of the four walls are actually panels that open to reveal more artwork. The artwork beneath is more fragile, and so the panels served to protect it, allowing Soane to open the panels a couple of times each day for inspiration or to show to students, and then closing them the rest of the time to prevent damage from the light. But the best was last -- the final panel (which had a painting of 'Futtypoor Cikri', which I believe is Fatehpur Sikri outside of Agra) opened to reveal a set of drawings for Soane's renovation of the Bank, his plans for the Masonic Temple in London, and some other architectural stuff...and then opened again to reveal a small, hidden room, with a gorgeous statue, skylights, and more art.
All in all, the museum was fabulous -- and since it was free, and full of such amazing stuff, it was well worth hurrying back from Bath. Seeing it in the candlelight was even better, and gave me just a little bit of a hint of what a Regency house, with all of its silks and brocades and velvets, would have looked like at night.
Now, I'm absolutely exhausted -- I got back to my hotel a little before ten, washed some clothes in the sink, annotated the 260ish photos I've taken in the last two days, and wrote this absurdly long post. Tomorrow's another crazy day, so I should go to bed! I'll likely post pics tomorrow if I'm not too tired, so at least you have something other than another novella to look forward to.
