We left for Bath at 3:15, my having worked half a day. Mirinda said the puppies HATED going to the Forge. Poor things.
The trip up was ok. For a change we didn’t go via the A303! Instead I decided the A36 was a good option as it goes all the way to Bath. Unfortunately when we reached the end of the M27, a big sign declared that the A36 was closed! How can they just close an entire road? Anyway, whoever organised the detours decided to use a triangle for one way and a square for the other. Nice idea. Unfortunately you get one chance to work out which is which and what it all means. Knowing I could only be so wrong, I chose the triangle. I realised my mistake very quickly as we retraced our path back over the M27 and started heading southish. Mirinda, on the other hand, became extremely single minded about following the little black triangles whence ever they led!
After a struggle of wills, we eventually managed to rejoin the A36 just beyond a place called Brook – presumably named for the character in Melrose Place. We stopped as the suns final rays sank behind the hills and ‘enjoyed’ a cup of tea/coffee in a layby.
After this it was a nice easy run up to the outskirts of Bath. Then we hit peak hour. We arrived on the outskirts and just crawled. Then stopped. The final mile was excruciatingly slow. After a few days we pulled into the overflowing car park at the gorgeous Villa Magdala and checked in.
Roy Thwaites, hotel owner/manager (I assume it was he) is brilliant. Talk about giving you just enough info and making you feel at home without suffocating you with facts about his sister’s haemorrhoids or the state of local politics. The man is fantastic. And the hotel! Ok, it’s expensive but it’s worth every penny (make that pound). A lovely big bed, a lovely big room, and, of course, a lovely big shower! I know that one day this just won’t matter so much but at the moment it is bliss.
After unpacking and booking Friday and Saturday nights dinners, we strolled out looking for sustenance. Unfortunately I gave Mirinda the map. She was directing us to a pub that still has gas lights and great pub food but we ended up at an Indian restaurant almost on Pulteney Bridge. Of course I had a very hot lamb vindaloo and, as usual, wondered why, when there’s no-one around to ‘impress’.
We strolled up to the Abbey then back to the room to plan for tomorrow. I had a lovely long shower, watched some telly then quickly fell asleep. Ahhh, bliss.