Travelling abroad to explore foreign shores and different cultures is an annual tradition for my family. We've visited the south of France and the winding roads to Monaco, travelled from the storybook land of Florence to the heart of Rome and relaxed in the sleepy seaside towns of Cape Cod before entering the hustle and bustle of New York City. What we have failed to see as much of, are all the wonders that Great Britain has to offer.
For my 20th birthday in 2014, I decided that my parents' present to me could be a trip to Brighton. So, off we drove to the land-of-cool, perched on England's east coast....and eight hours later, we arrived. Yes, we could have made it to NYC in that time and sat through the first half of a Broadway show, but this funky seaside enclave for the country's boldest, bravest eccentrics was an exhilarating and refreshing stage which the Big Apple could not compete with. We stayed in the most beautiful Airbnb marina apartment, visited the pleasure palace and walked underwater amongst the sharks and turtles at the aquarium. I found some bargains in The Lanes, my mother re-embraced her hippy side, my sister got to say that she'd visited the set of Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging and my father enjoyed the street food and sunshine. We had an amazing time, and I was adamant that we were going to do it again.
Last weekend we embarked on the 2016 instalment of the Team Phillips UK Tour, and arrived in Bath in just over an hour. Indeed, it was a lot colder than our August adventure at the seaside and reminded me more of a school trip behind the Iron Curtain. Yet, the beauty and charm of the city took the sting out of the Arctic weather. Bath is the UK's only world heritage site, and I can understand why. We looked around the Assembly Rooms and imagined the dances and dalliances which must have occurred underneath the sparking chandeliers during the days of dowagers and debutants. Underneath the ballrooms, the Fashion Museum also provided my sister and I with the opportunity to exercise our creative muscles at its colouring station. We created whacky and wonderful high fashion designs, whilst a queue of primary-aged children formed waiting for us to finish our trip down memory lane.
Our next stop was The Jane Austen Centre, which offered insight into the author's Bath. We were shown around by a man who purported to be Mr. Darcy, but who unfortunately bared more resemblance to the less charming and equally less handsome, Mr. Collins. We discovered that Jane resided at numerous addresses in the city throughout her life, and despite her well-documented dislike of the city, it appears in all six of her novels. Northanger Abbey and Persuasion are almost entirely set in the ancient city. Failing miserably at writing with an old-fashioned quill and having browsed the shelves at the Colin Firth gift shop, we returned to the 21st century to enjoy the fine Italian cuisine at the restaurant next door. I can guarantee that Jane would have liked Bath a whole lot better if she'd have been able to try the pasta dishes on offer at Nonna's.
Freezing our socks off at the top of an open top bus, we then watched the streets fill with Bath rugby fans, proudly wearing their blue and white shirts, and lost count of the number of Range Rovers and Porsche's which whizzed by. We spent time taking in the best postcodes within which we'd never afford to live, and ate enough of Sally Lunn's buns to feed a Roman army.
Freezing our socks off at the top of an open top bus, we then watched the streets fill with Bath rugby fans, proudly wearing their blue and white shirts, and lost count of the number of Range Rovers and Porsche's which whizzed by. We spent time taking in the best postcodes within which we'd never afford to live, and ate enough of Sally Lunn's buns to feed a Roman army.
The Roman Baths were without a doubt the highlight of the trip. Being a modern historian, I thought I would be more interested in the stories of the macaronis of Bath who dressed in flamboyant clothing and sky-scrapping wigs. Yet, the Roman architecture and the mystical properties of the hot springs bewitched me. The wind was howling and showers of rain were tricking through the clouds, yet the hot springs continued to bubble and dance, casting a magical warm mist over the emerald pool. I dipped my fingertips into the water, and began to believe the ethereal tales woven into the water's history. Its reserves are believed to have cured ailments from leprosy to infertility. Even my father, who is renowned for sneaking off to the nearest coffee shop or factoring in a sneaky snooze when it comes to historical stops, was visibly impressed by the unexplained natural wonder. These springs are still a source of mystery to modern scientists, and there is a peaceful satisfaction in the uncertainty of its powers.
All in all, Team Phillips' Bath adventure proved to be a success. I managed to get my culture fix, explored a new city and spent time with my family. Other than being wowed by Mr. Darcy himself, what more could I have asked for from a weekend?
No comments:
Post a Comment