Outnumbered & Abroad: Bath & Austen (Part 12)
Bathe (Friday, September 28, 2018)
There is no love sincerer than the love of food.”
~ George Bernard Shaw
This was the quote on the wall, painted in large italics, in the breakfast chamber (okay room) down below. But if I was ever to use the word “chamber” this is probably my one moment! The room lodging came with a complimentary continental and/or Old English Breakfast. Randi described the breakfast as “a working man’s breakfast,” which is by far the best way to define it.
Old English Breakfast
Sautéed mushrooms (whole)
boiled tomatoes (whole)
one fried egg (or baked, because it was overdone)
a plop of baked beans
two slices of bacon (thick cut ham)
two slices of toast
black pudding
"What the heck is ‘black pudding’?” you may ask. Well that’s exactly what I was wondering so I asked.
Described as “sausage pieces, cooked down in blood and then cut to serve,” I have now begun calling this concoction “blood pudding.” A term so infectious to us wary Americans that I am pretty sure that is what Nicole actually thinks is the name of it - might as well should be! Doing my part, I tried a taste of the blood pudding to find out it tasted like .. burnt blood.
Go figure.
Especially after the waitress did not give the item a good review, nor the way that there chef made it. Probably shouldn’t have even given it a go with that kind of review. Warren Clayton was a champ, however, and cleaned his entire plate - blood pudding and all!
Driving to Bath, I legitimately thought that I was going to die. I think the only thing that I can liken that amount of fear to is when Nicole had her permit and I rode with her in the car for the first time. Is it coincidence that the second time I felt that genuine of fear in a car was when Nicole was driving?
The rods in the UK are extremely narrow. We are also driving on the “wrong” side of the road, manual with the offhand. For some reason, she seems to think that she has the luxury of being a good distance away from the centerline but that puts MY side of the car dangerously close to the rock walls, parked cars, cliffs, and whatever else may be where we would have a bike lane or shoulder. Those do not exist here and neither do any sort of traffic rules.
She took out TWO construction cones and a chunk of the cube in the process. I felt like I was on repeat with exclaiming, “GET OVER!” every few seconds. I am also pretty sure that if the road had been another twenty miles further, I would have sweated completely through my t-shirt and bruised my heel from stomping my “mom brake” on the passenger side floor board.
Paying for the damage to the rental car because of a sidewise or driving off the road is NOT something I want to have to budget for.
As if our driving disasters were never ending, parking was a whole other debacle. Trying to find the car park as Nicole’s phone was directing us was impossible. Not just that, but I needed to use a restroom so jolting around sharp blind turns on rough cobblestones as doing NOTHING good for my full bladder.
We finally got parked in a small four hour parking place where the ticket reader gave us all kinds of trouble. When they finally brought the parking pass window display over (I had waited with the unlocked car for them to come back), I thought we were going to immediately head out on adventure.
I was wrong.
Turned out Randi and Warren Clayton needed a variety of stuff out of the back. I noticed a yogurt continuer from breakfast that Randi had grabbed.
Thinking really hard before I said something, I finally bit the bullet and said what was on my mind.
“You know,” I said in my best attempt to NOT sound like a parent, “We probably shouldn't leave that yogurt in here because it’s going to get hot and start to sour.”
“Oh, it’s plenty cool out,” Randi said confidently as she popped it into Warren Clayton’s cowboy boot top that was peeping out of the trunk.
I shrugged and left the group for the Hilton Hotel at the tope of the car park hill. I needed to use the restroom and figured the hotel lobby or restaurant would have something. I told myself my conscious was clear, I had made my comment, and, when the 80 degree summer afternoon hit and the car reeked - it wasn’t my fault.
As I walked away, I overheard and saw with my peripherals, that Randi had needed something else out of the trunk of the car. Next thing I knew, Nicole was striding up next to me. When I gave her a quizzical look, she explains, “Randi decided she needed something out of the car. She was too long and I’m done.”
I just laughed and said, “I understand.” We had been together for a long time and as much as we all adore each other and no matter how much fun we are having, we were all just a bit tired.
Leaving the hotel, we met up with the Johnson’s who were both pretty sullen. Randi and I fell behind the other two and that’s where Randi confided in me about what had happened.
“I think everyone is made at me,” she said, wide-eyed. “Nicole was mad at me for taking too long and, well, I accidentally smushed Warren Clayton’s boot with my yogurt in it and it went EVERYWHERE!”
I couldn’t help but cringe. Those were his new boots too. Purchased right before this trip.
“Welp, what’s done is done!” Was all that I could think of saying on that note.
“Dark creepy staircase?” Warren Clayton interrupted us by asking. I glanced up the long, narrow, staircase that we couldn’t make anything out of at the top. We all looked at each other, shrugged and then started climbing. Our adventure in Bath was just beginning!
Nicole’s original suggestion was to download the Jane Austen Bath walking tour and follow it. Upon entering the Jane Austen Centre, our entire thought process changed. I walked into the gift shop on the mission of my trip to the United Kingdom: Pride & Prejudice.
I had thought that, for sure, they of all places would have the decadent, eye-feast-worthy of a book that my eyes and should hungered for. There was one petite book with the classic fabric covering its hard binding, an off yellow with a gold lettering of “Pride & Prejudice.” I knew that i had to have it as my most beloved, paperback version is dog eared, full of sand from Hawaiian beaches, arena dirt, and all other travel atrocities.
Then I saw it. It wasn’t the Pride and Prejudice book I was searching for, it was the beautiful, large, hardback black with gold embossing book I had been searching for. It was the complete collection of Jane Austen! It was 40 pounds, more than I had intended buying and I hated the novelty tourist in me that was succumbing to the gift shop.
Jane Austen book set in the beautiful marketing I had been dreaming of for week and to always know that I had purchased the beautifully bound book in Bath.
Jane Austen herself had spent much of her time in Bath and it was the place that set the plot for so many of her stories and founded the characters of my beloved stories. Crazier than all of this, for as much as I love Pride & Prejudice, and the complete mastery that Ms. Austen posses in her writing, I felt surprised and wee bit ashamed that I have never actually read all of her books. It was the extra push of courage that I needed in the procurement of The Book.
A beautiful complication of all of her books, it’s the large sort of textbook of joy that you want to jump in and start reading.
Going through the exhibit, we started with a soft spoken, rapid blinking older lady who gave us the history of Jane Austen. I found myself equally amazed of the history of her life, as well as the fact that I knew nothing about her.
How could I adore a book so much and have never even thought to know more about her, the author? How does that even happen?
The irony of the Jane Austen and my oblivion is that she lived a very incognito and anonymous life. It made everything kind of make some sense in my attempt to rationalize the irrational. There is no confirmed picture of her and very few documents that list her existence.
In talking of her early childhood, I was surprised how callous her entire family was or just families in general back then. I guess that she had a younger brother who was “special” or had some sort of mental issue. Therefore, her family …. gave him? Sold him? To a peasant in town. How sad and wrong is that? She also had an older brother who was adopted by an aunt and uncle… who were extremely wealthy … what a strange and different time to live.
After the guided tour, we were allowed to adventure through the displays that were set up. Randi was pretty careful about reading each oft he displays, but she lacked the energy and gumption she had with Shakespeare. In fact, I felt like she was quite lackluster to be honest. In hindsight, maybe it was the remnants of the yogurt episode hanging over her - souring in more ways that one.
In all actuality, I felt as if I was the most enthusiastic about the Jane Austen Centre, where I would have guesses that either Randi or Nicole would have been more of a fangirl.
Then I saw it!
THE DRESS UP SECTION!
I convinced all three of the others to join me in getting our cosplay on! I have to say, Warren Clayton and I really handled the part! Tailored up with a top hat, dress jacket and a scarf, Warren Clayton looked like he was a part of the scene! We joined a mannequin Mr. Darcy for high tea in our dresses and bonnets. I actually felt like I really pulled off the bonnet but I’m not sure I can be the one to say that. Warren Clayton so looked the part that the young lady working the area wanted to be in the picture with him… so I obliged her even if he wasn’t aware of the effect I was starting to notice he had on British women.
Of course, all of us girls got out pictures with Mr. Darcy individually. I was glad that my photo of “fawning” with the use of a time period ladies fan kind of turned out. Nicole and Randi’s “flirting” did not turn out and I was glad I was giving them a better picture when I said, cheerfully, “Okay and now a normal one!” it didn’t offend them at the time and they were thankful I had grabbed the normal ones as well later when we were looking through our camera rolls. I wish people could look out for me like that as well.
