14 May: Taking the Waters
To Bath, to Bath we go today. Of course I got lost, but eventually fetched up in the Podium garage and sallied forth. Bath is still a resort town, with lots of toney shops. There are also shoals of French schoolchildren dodging around throwing candy at each other. After stopping in a couple of shops, I finally found my bearings and tracked down the Theatre Royal, to find out when the play I was supposed to see that evening was due to begin. I also got seduced into the Jane Austen Centre, where they give you a little introductory lecture before setting you loose in the exhibits. Nothing was particularly new to me, but I was hankering to read Northanger Abbey – Milsom Street! Pulteney Street! The Royal Crescent and the Pump Rooms! The Museum of Costume is in the basement of the Assembly Rooms. It was a pleasant ramble through four centuries of fashion – I particularly like the bits about the Rani of Pudakoputti (okay, I didn’t write it down and can’t remember it), an enterprising Australian lass who set about impoverishing her princely spouse, after they left India ignomiously in exile. There was also an exhibit of evening gowns of the Queen, in honor of the jubilee. All things considered, when you think about what ghastly garments other people were wearing during these years (50s, 60s and 70s), she did pretty all right – in fact, was quite the glamour puss in her youth. Turns out she always wears light colors so she can be seen more easily against the dark suits of her handlers.
I was getting a bit nervous about time – I had to be out of the Podium garage by three (they only allow a four hour stay). It was a little after two when I reached the Roman baths. Made of the same pale yellow stone that every building in Bath is constructed of, the baths are filled with a viscous green liquid – like what comes out when you flush your radiator, or a batch of Gatorade gone terribly wrong. When the air cools, steam rises off the water, and you can see tiny bubbles struggling their way to the surface. I hardly paused at the Roman archaeological exhibit because… I don’t care much about Roman archaeological exhibits. Alas, the Pump Room has been tarted up into a snazzy restaurant… but they do have great tilt pens in the gift shop!
Bought boxes and tape in the Post Office opposite the Podium. Unfortunately, when I got back to the car, I discovered I didn’t have my wallet. PANIC PANIC PANIC. Fortunately, it was waiting for me at the Post Office. In my nervous state, of course I scraped the car against a concrete pillar in the garage. Thank God for supplementary rental insurance.
That night at the Theatre Royal, “The Woman in Black” was a good old-fashioned spine tingler. Once again, the crowd was very young – lots of screaming during the scary bits (which were indeed scary – you’ll never think the words “pony and trap” harmless again.) Very workmanlike production, creating an evocative presentation of an ancient house in the northeast marshes at the turn of the century with very little more than a few yards of scrim and a wicker trunk. One could see the end coming from a mile off, however.