Taking in Bath

I'm in Bath! This morning I made my way to Paddington Station, which was exciting in itself being a fan of Paddington Bear when I was younger, and got the train. I love taking the train, you get to see all sorts of things. Mainly trees and houses, but some of the houses were very picturesque. And, being summer, there were big golden fields (not paddocks, because this is England).

When I arrived in Bath, it was a short walk to the place I'd booked to stay the night. Because I'd mucked around a bit, I didn't arrive in Bath until after midday, so I was able to check into The Griffin Inn straight away.

Because I've never stayed in an Inn before, and in fact, I've never paid to stay anywhere by myself before, I was quite pleased by everything. So, naturally, I took photos of everything.

This is my room, it is on a giant downwards slope and a lean. Blood rushing to my right foot as I sleep may prove restorative to it, who knows. If it's cured of blisters when I wake up, I'll let you know. I just want my sister to note the backpack on the bed: this is the full extent of my luggage. Some people would say that's to be expected when you're only going away for one night, but if you've seen what she packs for one night, you'll appreciate why I'm pointing this out. The white bag is from the Paddington Bear stand at Paddington Station; Hamish, Maggie, and soon-to-be-born are being well looked after.

My room was the cheapest because it has an 'external bathroom.' I figured this would mean I would have to share it with people, but actually, it just means I have to walk across the hall to it. It's still just for me. Another exciting fact: one of the doors in the hallway is so tiny I only just fit through it without ducking, and you can see how warped the wall is to the right of it.

Anyway. Bath. After checking in, I went to get some lunch, but first I had to buy an umbrella because, as you might expect from a town named for water, it was raining. And I hadn't brought a jacket with me. I concede I may have gone a bit far with the packing light thing. Then I had lunch at the Jazz Cafe, where I discovered the amazingness of warm goat's cheese. The cafe was really busy and the two young guys running it were doing an impressive job of keeping up with taking orders, running down to the kitchen to place the orders and collect food, deliver food to tables, make drinks, and man the till.

Then it was off to the Museum of Costume and Assembly Rooms. To get there I went through The Circus, which is like the Martinborough Square except it's round and only has three streets coming off it...so not really like the Square at all. But the middle is grassy with trees so that's what reminded me of it. I noticed that the architraves that run above the line of the doors and windows of all the houses around The Circus are all different.

I wondered if they reflected the interests of the people who lived in them, but probably not because no doubt the houses would all have been built first and then sold to people to live in. So then what do they all mean?

The Assembly Rooms were very impressive, they were gutted by bombing in WWII, but have been restored beautifully. In the Ball Room there's currently a display of costumes from films, the above are from The Duchess.

The Octagon was originally used for gambling, it has an extreme chandelier in it. You can only see part of it in the mirror.

I spent quite a while at the Museum of Costume, there was a great exhibition of wedding dresses through the ages, my favourite was a flapper-style one from 1928.

As part of the section about under garments, you could try on a corset and crinoline. I think I would have done quite well in the corset days with regards to my waist - I couldn't even get the crinoline to stay up properly, it wouldn't do up tight enough to fit my waist, even when a nice lady tried to help me. The top part of the corset kept popping open, however, so I had to breathe very shallowly while taking the photo. I am loving all these museums with interactive bits, lots of people were trying the crinolines on, two teenagers and their Mum had all just had a turn before me.

After the Museum of Costume, I decided I needed to keep my energy up with some scones with jam and clotted cream. At the rate I'm eating my way around the world I won't be able to be smug about the size of my waist for much longer.

I stopped at Number One Royal Crescent, where the house has been restored with authentic 18th century decoration and furniture. Each room has a volunteer minding it and each of them was very eager to offer the laminated guide sheet for their room and talk about it.

The curve of Royal Crescent is pretty impressive, as are most of the houses on it from what you could see through their windows strolling past.

Making my way back towards the centre of town I saw this great band rotunda, although surely it's a band curvetunda because it's really only half.

Next stop was the Roman Baths. Supposedly the main attraction in Bath (funnily enough), but I wasn't really a fan. I think it's because the centre/museum itself is so modern and flash, it seems like a clinical layer over top of the ruins of the baths. I know there wouldn't be much to see otherwise but I do think you can go too far in trying to make something that it's not. Hence, I have very few photos from the baths.

After the Baths I wandered around in what I now realise to be circles trying to find the spot from which the Bizarre Bath comedy tour was to depart at 8pm. I wanted to make sure I knew where it was before I got dinner. Getting lost did mean I passed this yarn shop and was able to call in and have a look as it was their knitting circle night. There were about 10 knitters crammed into the small shop and they kindly offered me a piece of cake but didn't really talk to me after that.

Finally finding where I needed to be at 8pm, I went around the corner to Sally Lunn's for dinner. Supposedly the home of the creator of the Sally Lunn bun and the oldest house in Bath. I had very nice dinner despite the older man at the table next to me complaining about everything. I don't know how his wife could stand it. 'This soup's quite sweet for soup isn't it? I prefer a much more savoury soup. Is it the potatoe? Well it could do with more salt I say. And I'd rather a normal bread bun than one of these Sally Lunn buns.' YOU ARE AT SALLY LUNN'S, WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU'D GET? I didn't realise a Sally Lunn bun could be savoury as well as sweet but it makes sense, we're just used to them having icing on them. My chicken came on one and it was yum.

Then it was round the corner for Bizarre Bath. Chrissy had recommended it to me from years ago and sure enough, it's still going 20 years after starting. It's by no means an historical tour, but it is funny and you get taken on a stroll around the streets of Bath as evening falls. By then it had stopped raining and had turned into a very nice night.

As well as jokes like, 'Here's Bath Abbey...

...and if you look to your right...

...there's the Seventh Day Adventist Church. Clearly one knew more about advertising than the other because I know which one I'd choose.'

There were actually amazing magic tricks! A Houdini bunny tied in chains, put in a sack with weights, and thrown in the river only to magically surface moments later. The inconspicuous boat that passed by just before the bunny was thrown must have had something to do with but I still can't figure out how they did it.

It was definitely worth 8 pounds, some of the comedy was pretty cheesy but out of the group of about 50 people, I'd say everyone had a pretty good time.

I actually can't believe how much I did in the space of 10 hours, and I wasn't even rushing. Everything is pretty close in Bath though so it didn't take long to get from place to place, plus I knew the Baths were open late so I went to the Museum of Costume first. I must be tired because now I'm just rambling...

More museums

After a very slow start (much wine was consumed last night), I met Hayley at the Victoria and Albert Museum in South Kensington.

This sculpture in the Grand Entrance reminded me of lots of those bendy balloons twisted together 

It was cool, but so big. We decided to take a free tour and the one about to start when we arrived was of the Theatre and Performance section. Turns out, this collection used to be housed at a separate museum at Covent Garden which I'd forgotten I'd visited in 2005. It was great seeing lots of set models, costumes, and posters and hearing some stories you wouldn't have heard just wandering around. But it wasn't quite as useful as one of the general tours would have been, because at least that would have given us some direction in terms of what sections we might be interested in. After our tour we went to the jewellery section and the tapestry section (kept in a heat and light controlled room which smelled like vinegar) to protect tapestries from the 1500s.

In this tapestry they're apparently playing a game called 'Le Main Chaude' (the hot hand), in which someone was blindfolded and had to guess who was slapping their hand. Strange.

Unfortunately, the fashion section that I had been looking forward to was closed for rennovations. So was the furniture section that also seemed interesting. It was nice just wandering through the giant museum, though, and there was some cool furniture in the modern section.

I had something to eat in the cafe before we left and this was the view if you looked up.

Both Hayley and I had seen posters advertising the Museum of Childhood on our separate ways to the V&A and thought the Judith Kerr exhibition looked interesting as we both know her books, so we asked how to get there. Turned out it it's on the other side of town and closed in two and a half hours. We decided to risk it and jumped on the tube.

On the way to the tube station we saw the above on one of the V&A's exterior walls.

It was so hot on the tube and we had to go all the way to Bethnal Green, but it was worth it, the Museum of Childhood was great!

The Judith Kerr exhibition was one of the best I've been to. She wrote and illustrated The Tiger Who Came to Tea, the Mog picture books, and novels such as When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit, based on her own life in which she and her family had to escape from Germany in 1939 as her father was a well-known journalist and screenwriter who was an early critic of the Nazis. One of the most amazing parts was that despite having to move through four countries in seven years, Judith's mother had kept some of Judith's stories and drawings from when she was younger and these were on display. There were also lots of the original illustrations from her picture books and interviews with her about her drawing and writing process.

The museum overall was so well set up, geared towards adults and children. In the exhibition there were lots of things for kids to do, like a little kitchen with a big tiger toy so they could act out the story of The Tiger Who Came to Tea, suitcases and a toy box so they could choose which toys to take like the girl in When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit, a table with colouring pencils and pictures from Mog to colour in, and a giant cat basket with cushions in it for sitting in like a cat.

We had a quick wander through the rest of the museum before the bell rang to say it was closing time. I loved the dolls' houses the best (even though I don't like dolls, and there were definitely some creepy dolls in the museum, it makes me shudder just thinking about them, I'm so glad they were in glass cases otherwise I probably wouldn't have wanted to stay at the museum). There were some incredibly detailed dolls' houses, some copies of actual houses in London made for rich children. There was a dolls' house donated by Queen Mary that she had furnished herself.

I would definitely recommend the musuem to other people, especially people travelling with children as there is so much for them to do. Every section had something for kids to play with or do.

Then it was home on the hot tube for a somewhat early night, which included ringing Nana and Tricia for a baby update. Sounds like the snow at home has been very eventful - I can imagine a Judith Kerr story about a family having to get taken off the farm through the snow on a tractor in case the baby decides to come!

Bikes and statues

Yesterday Hayley, Gareth, and I arranged to meet at Queensway to hire bikes and bike around Hyde Park. Hayley text me when they were leaving and we knew from going to Notting Hill the other day that while they live further out, by the time I change lines twice, it takes us about the same time to get there. I got on the Central line after my two changes, and who should be sitting in the exact carriage I got on but Hayley and Gareth! It was almost too coincidental to just be a coincidence.

Gareth said we should get out at Marble Arch so I could see the statue of the horse's head he'd been telling me about the other day, and thus began the morning of strange statues.

The jelly babies are opposite the horse's head; apparently they were put up last year and were only supposed to stay up until April. I don't know if the fact that they're still there in August means they're now there permanently, but they are strange. I do really like the horse's head though.

When we got to Hyde Park we had to go to three different bike hire stations to find one that was actually working, and then when we found one, Gareth and I couldn't work out how to get the bike out. It took Hayley to come along and unlock hers to show us both up. The bike hire system is pretty cool, there are stations all around the central city and the first 30 minutes are free, then it's a pound an hour after that. You just put your credit card in, it takes your details as a guarantee and then charges you for however long when you return the bike.

Hayley biking was like me punting - not very steady. But we were only in a park so she was able to go slowly and came to like it by the end. She was very impressed that I was able to take a photo while biking. It was a good way to see Hyde Park, we did a big loop and being all flat we were able to chat as we biked. It was strange not wearing a helmet, we felt like rebellious children. I don't understand why helmets aren't law in lots of European countries. It's not like accidents don't happen - the girlfriend of one of the guys at Cambridge had a decent sized scar on her face and had spent 2 months in a wheel chair after being knocked off her bike by a car and smashing her hip.

We returned the bikes near to the Serpentine and went for a stroll, past the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain where lots of little kids were running around in bare feet, and over to a statue I wanted to a see.

Peter Pan! We studied Peter Pan in one of my Honours children's literature papers and I wrote an essay on J. M. Barrie so I was happy we were able to find the statue he donated to the park. Surprisingly, there was quite a group of people gathered around it having their photo taken, I was reluctant to join the bandwagon but I relented and Hayley and I had our photo taken with the boy who wouldn't grow up.

On our way out of the park we saw the third strange statue of the day.

The plaque underneath says, '1859 - 1939 Presented By The Metropolitan Drinking Fountain & Cattle Trough Association To Mark Its 80th Anniversary.' We'd seen a big stone trough on another side of the park that had Metropolitan Drinking Fountain & Cattle Trough Association written on it. What any of this has to do with hugging bears, I have no idea.

On our way to get some lunch at Covent Garden, I hit the wall. Not literally, as I had to explain to Piet when I used the phrase that night. I was just so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open, so Hayley and I shelved our plans to go to the Victoria and Albert Museum and I came home, collapsed on the bed, and fell asleep straight away.

When I woke up to the sound of the little boy next door negotiating an obstacle course he has made with chalk arrows and bricks in their tiny back yard, I got up and set about booking somewhere to stay the night in Bath, which is where I'm off to on Wednesday. Then Chrissy and Piet had a friend come for dinner whose Dad is over from Adelaide for three weeks. He was a bit of a character, very talkative, told me all about his days as a Ford service rep when he had to cover the South Pacific and South East Asia. He's never been to New Zealand though. He's had three wives and 'countless girlfriends.' He currently belongs to a singles' club in Adelaide and said he was seeing a lady before he came over but she started talking about wanting to come on holiday with him so he had to give her the flick, 'even though she was pretty good in bed if you know what I mean.' He also told me about how the same woman was now seeing another guy in the club who had a dog that always sat in the front seat of the car ('note I said sat, and I said it on purpose'), and the woman would get very grumpy because when she and this man went for drive she would have to sit in the back seat. How did she remedy this problem? She poisoned the dog.

Apparently she was boasting about it to one of the ladies in the singles' club, but no one has had the heart to tell the owner of the dog so she and he are still driving about, with her in the front seat. It's so ludicrous it's funny, but that poor dog! Apparently singles' clubs for 70 year olds are where it's all happening in Adelaide.

Weekend Update: Bonus Edition

* And by bonus, I mean really long.

On Saturday, Hayley and I met at Notting Hill Gate to make our way to the Portobello market. We got there about midday, which may have been a slightly silly thing to do as it was absolutely packed. In the main stretch of the market on Portobello Road we couldn't even really see the stalls as the street was shoulder to shoulder full from one side to the other.

I saw the sign for a Hummingbird Bakery (which I felt like I'd heard of for some reason) so we fought our way into the shop and were not disappointed. I got a giant whoopie pie (which was like a massive ginger kiss) and Hayley got a red velvet cupcake.

We both got a takeaway glass of cold milk (which was cheaper than buying a bottle of water - crazy) and pushed our way through to a side street where we sat in the gutter to eat our treats. We are all class.

Some of the shops in Notting Hill clearly know their market, some had the Notting Hill movie poster hung in the window and one even had the exact same lettering from the movie poster as part of its signage.

The fringes of the market weren't quite as busy and some of the streets around the market have really lovely houses.

Palace or prison? You decide.

After the market Hayley and I walked through Kensington (which also seemed to have lots of nice houses and shops) to the Kensington Palace gardens. The grounds of Kensington Palace (home to Lady Di after she and Prince Charles separated) are being re-landscaped, but even still, it's not the most attractive of palaces.

Then Hayley headed home and I headed into town. Being a Saturday evening I felt like I should do something, so I decided to see if there were any tickets left to Blood Brothers. I thought about The Lion King, but I love the music of Blood Brothers (having played my step-Mum's tape of the 1988 cast recording many a time) and wanted to see a proper production of it (not that the Wairarapa College school production of it a few years ago wasn't excellent...). There were still tickets left for the back rows of the stalls so I got the second cheapest and then had about three hours to kill. With part of those three hours I decided to go to Liberty.

When I first came close to Liberty I walked straight past. I looked down into the street it's on, saw a giant white building that reminded me of the Globe, thought, 'That's quite a pub,' and kept walking. Then I realised I'd gone too far, consulted my Lonely Planet, and realised that giant white Tudor-like building was actually Liberty. For all its over-the-topness, I kind of loved it. It's insanely expensive but the building is quite funny in all its strange (and not original - it was built in the 1920s) Tudor splendour.



I especially loved the fabric and art and craft section - mostly because there was yarn!

After Liberty I head back towards the theatre, I was very proud of myself because this time I had managed to keep my sense of direction and was able to cut across a shorter way, which also meant I got to pass through Soho Sqaure. Consulting my Lonely Planet bible, I learned there was a highly recommended Hungarian restaurant called 'Gay Hussar' nearby, so having enough time, I popped in to see if there was a table. After much consultation with the bookings book, the waiter informed me he could fit me. I sat next to a Hungarian man and his American granddaughter, she kept complaining about how the English call things 'pudding' when they're not actual puddings, they're cake or pie or some other kind of dessert.

Sadly the light was too dim to take good photos, plus it's a pretty small place so my 'I'm just looking through my photos from the day, oh look at that I pushed the button and took a photo of my food' was a bit obvious and I got too self conscious after a photo of the cute plates and gave up. However, you can picture for yourself delicious venison ragout with red cabbage and 'tarhonya' (I still don't know what that is, it was kind of like couscous). The restaurant seemed very popular, everyone who came in after me had booked, but it wasn't that expensive. I feel like food over here generally isn't.

Then it was on to Blood Brothers. I'm so glad I decided to see it on the West End. It was amazing, the set was clever, it was surprisingly funny, the lead roles were great singers and I particularly liked the actors who played the two brothers. There was no one else sitting in my row (which was third from the back, the rest of the stalls and the upstairs were full) so I got to move along to where I could see best and sing along very quietly. I even cried at the end, despite knowing what happens. I didn't sob, however, unlike this woman sitting in front of me who obviously did not know the story. As we were walking out she was still collecting  herself and saying to her partner, 'It was just so sad. That poor mother.' I think one of the things I love most about it is that it has a really strong female lead; the woman who played the mother was really good, I thought her voice sounded a bit tired in one particular song but I think it's also a bit unfair when you know a recording of a show really well because you judge all the songs against it.

This morning, because there is no rest for those on holiday, I was up at 7.15am and off to Cambridge. My friend Greg, with whom I went to high school and Victoria University, is doing his PhD in Chemistry there and had agreed to show me around for the day.

The chapel of one of the Colleges

Yet again, giant old buildings on a scale that is hard to comprehend even when you're standing right in front of or inside them. I still don't quite understand how it all works, but all the students belong to a college and a lot of them live in the college or flats associated with them. Greg showed me around the three main colleges, although one is mostly closed for rennovation. Each college we saw has immaculately manicured lawns and some have amazing gardens.

Entrance to a college

A mere corner of a college

One of the 'smaller' dining halls

A cool clock, unlike a very expensive and strange beetle clock that one of the colleges commissioned, photos of which do not do justice to the horrificness of it. It's just so weird and disturbing, the beetle is crawling/moving on a giant gold shell and it's really hard to actually tell the time due to the system of seemingly meaningless blue lights.

Having a current student as a tour guide was great as it meant I could go into all the parts of the University open to the public for free, whereas for some parts tourists usually have to pay. Some areas, though, were strictly private.

One the places we visited during the day that I liked the most though was called Kettle's Yard, which describes itself as 'neither a gallery nor a museum' (although there is a separate gallery space).

In the 1950s an ex-Tate Gallery curator and his wife bought four cottages in Cambridge and rennovated and restored them to house all the art, sculptures, and furniture they had aquired over the years. While they lived there they opened the house once a week to visitors and in the 1970s they donated it as-is to the University of Cambridge. The house is beautiful. The rooms you first enter into are quite small, so you have to ring the bell outside and a minder will let you in when there's enough space. Upstairs though it's all open plan and you can look down into another big open plan downstairs section. The floors upstairs are a light coloured polished wood and downstairs they're big flagstone tiles, all the walls are whitewashed and there a lots of windows and sky lights, there are shelves and shelves of books, and beautifully arranged objects (like a whole lot of small round grey stones arranged into a spiral on a table). I want to live in a house exactly like it when I grow up. Unfortunately you can't take photos inside unless you pay but their website has a virtual tour. And here is a window from the outside looking in.

Right next door is a mysterious looking church, which, it turns out, the owners of Kettle's Yard also helped restore.

After touring around, we met up with another guy I went to school with and hadn't seen in about seven years. Turns out he's doing a PhD at Cambridge too - there must be something in the water at Wairarapa College. The college Greg belongs to has punts the students can use, so Greg, Matthew, his girlfriend, and I went for a punt along the river. Apparently an essential Cambridge experience. I was very jumpy to begin with, the punt was not very steady and parts of the river were packed with professional punters and tourists who had hired their own punts and were giving it a go. We crashed early on and I was sure we were going to tip over but Matt turned out to be an expert punter and Greg wasn't too bad either, Apparently the trick to learning to punt well is a lot of beer. At first I had been very reluctant to take the giant pole and try my hand at driving the punt, but when we got to a quieter part of the river I very unsteadily climbed up onto the platform.

As you can see by the look on my face, I was not a calm, graceful punter, however, I managed to do pretty well steering us and I didn't fall off, unlike another guy we saw. So it was actually a success. I was glad to get back into the passenger's seat though. There were swans on the river that we passed just gliding along at one point, but when we passed them again one was chasing another and, having never seen a swan at pace, I could not believe how fast it went. Matt was driving the punt by then and pushing us along at a pretty steady pace but the swan raced past us and out of sight at lightning speed. I would not want to be the subject of a swan chase.

After punting we went to roof top bar that not a lot of people seem to know about, because instead of paying three pound fifty to climb some spire for the view, we got a view, less tourists, and a seat for as long as we liked, all for the price of a gin and tonic.

The train home was a non-stop to King's Cross and it was incredibly fast, the one on the way out to Cambridge had been pretty quick, but this time we were hurtling along and back in London in 50 minutes. Pretty quick for a lovely day in heart of Cambridgeshire.