British Bath

The Brits seem inordinately fond of by-hand car washes. It seems like everywhere I go (in Bath), I run into one.  And I have yet to see an automatic car wash. (Perhaps there is a business opportunity here…)

Cemetery in Bath, England.

That aside, Bath seems like a decent little city. I found the architecture rather bland, but on whole, it is pleasing. It rather reminds me of Vienna—rows and rows of massive townhouses interrupted here and there by sharp neo-Gothic steeples protruding through the mass of buildings.

And like Vienna, Bath projects an air of higher culture—the type that kills true cultural development—the myopic attention to the norms and conventions of another age, an age long gone.

But then maybe that was just tourist Bath—the Bath that makes its money through the past. And Bath’s past is worth a bit.

Bath, England.

Founded by the Romans two-thousand years ago, Bath quickly grew into an international resort town (they even had them back in those days) due to its natural hot spring waters (approximately one million liters of hot water daily). People flocked there from all over the empire, seeking healing in the temple-bath of Solis Minerva. After the disintegration of Roman Briton, the area declined, but rose to new heights as a British health and vacation resort during the 18^th and 19^th centuries. It was during this time that Bath received its distinctive Georgian look—massive connecting townhouses built in the Georgian, neo-classical style, including, most famously, the Royal Crescent and the Circus.

I came; I saw; I was not amazed. But then I wasn’t seeking a Jane Austin moment… or even a window into her world.

The bath complex was well-preserved and educational, but I would live even if I knew I was never to see it again. My pet peeve against it is that it utilized horrible actors/actresses for its multimedia presentations… Not really a big deal. The bigger issue was that, to my taste, Bath was overly touristy and expensive… and the cityscape just wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be. Shucks, I didn’t even bother to take a picture of the Royal Crescent. (My reaction: They make so much fuss about this place? I must be missing something.)

Not surprisingly, due to my impressions on my first day in Bath, I dropped my original sightseeing plans for the second day (Stonehenge, Old Sarum, and Salisbury) and headed for the hills, meandering through meadows and woodlands on lightly marked foot paths. Sheesh. Now that was more like it. But minus the castles, the old stone bridges, the sheep, etc., I could have done that at home… 

See link for pictures:
Pictures from Bath