It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a traveller in Bath must be in want of a respectable breakfast. Thus fortified (after fruit and museli), we emerged from the basement of our Georgian townhouse and prepared ourselves for society.
We strolled by Sydney Gardens and the Holburne Museum admiring the grandeur. Down Pulteney Road we proceeded, over the noble bridge, and to the Pump Room, where the waters promised health but threatened sulphur. We, being of delicate constitution and considerable sense, declined. We did, however, walk up and down looking at everyone and talking to no one.
Finally, we joined a walking tour. Daniel, our guide, possessed that happy mixture of knowledge and affability which renders a gentleman irresistible. We were persuaded to follow him from the faint traces of the medieval to the glorious conceits of the Georgian. Finally, the Royal Crescent greeted us warmly, and at the Circus, one could almost imagine Catherine Morland swooning into Mr Tilney’s arms. Although today the only swooning was our own at the steepness of the gravel path.
The Assembly Rooms whispered of past delights from behind scaffold. We imagined the rustle of muslin, the clink of glass, and the practiced faint. Reader, we did not faint; we did, however, take coffee and a light luncheon, which is much the same thing only more nourishing.
Thereafter we divided our forces. L, with all the sensibility of a heroine, explored the Bell Tower and shops. I, with all the resignation of a lesser character in Persuasion, submitted to the Baths… half agony, half hope, though mostly crowds, the whiff of sulphur and rising-damp.
Reunited, we procured provisions at M&S and took a turn along the Avon. The river glowed, the air softened, and Bath, like a well-fitted gown, proved elegant, flattering, and just a little impractical.
And so we returned home, content. For though Austen may have laughed at us, we flatter ourselves that she would have laughed kindly.
Tomorrow we depart for London. The greatest of stages upon which all hopes and vanities are performed. And where one must be prepared to walk very fast, speak very little and pay rather a lot.

















