Wanderings.

I have about three hours before the next stage of my journey begins, and so I am off to move silently through this strange town, taking more pictures and finally seeing the inside of its Abbey.


One of the peculiar things about Bath is that so much of its city centre was built at roughly the same time (in the eighteenth century) that it has a strangely uniform look: long avenues and terraces of Bath stone, strong and simple lines decorated with grand neoclassical flourishes. For this trip, I've stayed on the top floor of a townhouse in the famous Great Pulteney Street, with a lovely and strange view of the top floors across the way.


Already today we've had sun, cloud, pouring rain, and more sun--weather far more changeable than in Cambridge, a thing I always forget about what it was like to live in the southwest all those years ago.

On the front of the Abbey, angels climb up and down ladders on either side of the west windows. The angels appeared to a bishop in a dream. What a dream it must have been.