Bath and Avebury, part 2

Sunday, we visited Avebury and Bath in the company of Bart and Tony. It was Megan who recommended Avebury, when I emailed to ask her for advice about what to see and do in Bath. So kudos to Megan for her excellent tourism skills. For two tourism-challenged couples like us and the Gamber-Kellys, a little advice helps a lot. As you can see at left, Avebury is U-G-L-Y.

However, I made the best of things and smiled for the camera. The stones in Avebury sit in the middle of a sheep pasture, so the experience is much more personal. Little, polite British signs ask that you respect the "antiquity" of the stones, but otherwise there's no supervision at all. So, in theory, you can picnic on an ancient religious site and no one will tell you to stop.

(note the momentary emergence of the sun)

So we're walking along, and I'm all, 'OMG, this place is so cute' and 'Oooh! Look at that cottage.' And Tony's all 'Hey, that place is for sale!' because he and Bart are a tiny bit real-estate obsessed. And we come along this pretty wall and I'm all, 'That building is sooo cute!' And the wall ends and the sign says...PUBLIC TOILETS

Awesome. In England, the public toilets are pretty. Inside, my personal stall said, 'These toilets are more prehistoric than the stones' to which a wit replied 'I dunno...Mick Jagger's getting on a bit.'

Then we rolled onward, to the Roman baths at Bath, where you can toss coins into the cold pool where people have been asking favors of the goddess Sulis Minerva for more than 2000 years. Some genius threw a paper dollar into the pond. I'm so proud to be...never mind. I gave the goddess a fivepence piece and asked for a favor. I'm cheap.

At the baths, they informed us that Romans spent a great deal of time cleaning their bodies. They arrived with servants, stripped, then had the servants rub oil into their skin. You wouldn't think this was exactly the same as washing, but then the servants used razor-sharp scrapers to scrape off oil, hair, and dirt. Tony tells me that if one were a famous Roman, the scraped off bits would be saved, decanted into jars, sold, and used as face-cream by ladies. Imagine the possibilities.

If you look at Charles' photographs, you'll see that the baths themselves are the original Roman stones. Built up from about 5 feet are later buildings, mostly 18th and 19th century. But the floors, walls, the baths themselves, etc., are all Roman. So when you stand there, and watch tourists sitting on the edge of the bath and thinking deep thoughts ("I could really use a toilet..."), they're sitting where generations of Romans, Britons, and other people sat.

We tried the water, too. Nast-ee. And warm. Because when water tastes like something marinated in rusty pipe, you really want it to be warm.

Tony was telling me a joke that involved fudge. Tony is

quite naughty.

Proof of previous assertion? Here's Tony climbing out from under my hoop skirt at the Museum of Costume. I also wear a fetching gore-tex corset that Charles had way too much fun lacing up.

The Museum of Costume is a little disappointing, to be frank. You get in for about 1.50 if you buy the tickets at the same time you buy entry to the Roman Baths. With the tickets, they give you cards good for a free coffee/tea or juice for each person. I think this is a consolation prize, because the best thing about the Museum of Costume (other than the gift shop full of books about bondage!) is the tea shop. We had coffee, tea, and carrot cake in real china cups with proper spoons and milk and the whole shebang at iron tables outside on an 18th century terrace. Oooo...lovely.

But the Museum essentially fails to exist. They received a collection of historical costume from a benefactor who insisted that they use the Assembly Rooms for the museum. But the city obviously has better uses for the beautiful 18th century rooms, with their 25-foot ceilings and musicians' balconies. They are empty, lined with chairs. Apparently, one can be married there, and have large parties under the portrait of George III.

The costume bit has been crammed into the basement, where you toddle along a few glass cases with examples of this and that (historical knickers!). The best things about the exhibit are two interactive portions. First, they've dressed a manequin in see-through clothing so that you can see where her pockets hung (underneath her dress, accessible through slits). You can stick your hands into her dress, lift up her petticoats, etc. to see the details. Second, they've devoted a small room to corsets and hoop skirts, and you are supposed to try them on. I did, as you can see.

And then we had pizza.

The End.