Bath - The Journey

I am currently sitting in First Class on the train to Bath… most exciting, however I am concerned that someone will ask to see my ticket and realise I aught not be sitting here. However there is hardly anyone in the First Class area so I will just feign stupidity – encourage the Australian accent and all.

I had intended to leave much earlier, its now 11.30am and I should be in bath by about 1pm. I don’t have a room booked in the hopes that spontaneity will prove fruitful and I will find the perfect hamlet as I wander the streets of Bath.

My journey here was rather long on the underground and during this experience my new handbag broke with the weight of my laptop. Rather than be frustrated by this I bought a turkey and cranberry pastry and was most impressed with the texture and taste. It cost 30 pence to go to the toilet… I wish I had of thought of that, I’d make a million.

Paddington Station is enormous with people bustling about and everyone appearing to know exactly where they should be going (a female voice just came over the speaker phone and announced that we will be fed soon! How marvellous. I think I could get used to first class).

I am looking out the window now and the sun is blaring down on London. As I make my way out of the main city you see more green opening up. The planes still flitter here and there in the air and I am now moving through a more industrialised area. I cant wait to see fields… I cant wait to breathe non-London air.

My inspiration to go via train was ofcourse an awfully romantic, yet somewhat art house film called “Before Sunrise”. Here two people meet on the Euro-rail and decide to get of in Vienna. They wander around discussing themselves, philosophy, reincarnation and the purpose of existence as a whole. I wanted to be a writer on a train, staring out of the window and taking in the world as it spun past me – such a romantic notion. If only the seats weren’t so comfortable and I’d have slept for more than five hours last night, would improve the experience as I’ve very intention of going to sleep very shortly – if only I could overcome the concern that someone is going to pop around the corner and ask for my ticket! And then throw me off the train for being so presumptuous – I wonder if I’d pass for a quirky rich girl?

Where I am sitting there are four large leather recline-able seats surrounding a wooden table with a long window by my side – I would hate to think what economy is. There is an emergency procedure pamphlet that neither I, nor I suspect anyone else on the train, will actually read. With my phone and camera situated on one and the other side of my laptop, I am typing away almost completely in bliss (still worried about getting moved on… not only due to the potential embarrassment, but also considering my bag is broken and therefore it will be a struggle in itself to get everything together and move to another seat – I don’t see hwy it would cause anyone concern).

Staring out of the window at the moment I can only see blue sky and clouds here and there. The refreshments gentleman has just wandered past and in my most “I’m rich and confident and should be sitting here” voice advised that I didn’t need anything at this time. I am dying to take a photo of myself in my lil chair before someone hauls me back to the lap of poverty!

Ahh and beyond my window England has appeared. We just moved passed a large lake, tudor houses with very large bright green yards, the trees are melting to gold and the small houses pop up here and there, almost peacefully. I cant wait to see more, to see more fields – its wonderful knowing that any minute I will look out my window and see a landscape I’ve only ever read about.

Many Australians, and travellers I suppose, get stuck in London when they come to the UK – I can understand why, but don’t think that’s for me. I have more of a desire to get a train ticket and hop off and on where ever I choose, wander around… from what I hear London and England are two separate entities, almost different countries, for the differences in people, culture… lifestyle. I’ve only been on the train 20minutes and already I see a whole new world with a mansion overlooking ploughed fields, market gardens – and another lake! It is picturesque, I am so lucky to see it in winter with all the colours of the world adorning the earth.

I am going to visit a recruitment agency when I get to Bath and see if they have any work and, potentially, situate myself there. Nigel also suggested that Hove in Brighton might be a better fit for me – I can always come up to London to see a play and visit the nightlife – but I am looking for more of a lifestyle – there is a certain level of embarrassment that I feel that I haven’t fallen for London – I wonder if maybe I just haven’t given it enough of a chance. There is a darkness about it that is hard to describe, with all of its wonders and history, there is still something… negative about it. Maybe it’s the dangerous side, the crime and homelessness, or potentially the echoes of the past. I have been spoilt I think living on a farm and then in the beautiful South Perth most recently. I said to Nigel that I expect Perth is infact the emerald city, being to pristine – but potentially lacking in heart. When it comes to finding the place you belong maybe there is no where completely perfect, maybe its about finding out which part of existence is more important to you. I have come to the initial conclusion that open space is more important to me than a good nightlife – you can go somewhere for a weekend if you are really desperate for that. I am hoping to find somewhere that has a bit of a cultural scene, drama and arts – however also holds some part of the romantic England, for it to be easy to go out into the landscape, to wander aimlessly for hours… I can hardly type now, we came out of Reading about 15 minutes ago and I just want to scream…. Do people scream about landscapes??? I think possibly not, but I’m exceptionally excited. Three trees, the hills, the houses spotted here and there… the boats on the river, the ducks. Oh, my heavens it is beautiful… I cant believe I’m here?! I’m in England – now there is a reaction I have been waiting to get since I got here. I am so glad I’ve done this before finding work – I suddenly feel like I haven’t breathed for the last four weeks and finally air has come flooding into my lounges.

I am going to stop writing for the moment and take in…. England.

Sheep! Mission accomplished, I’ve seen sheep. All of the paddocks are separated by hedges just as I expected… but seeing them brings a smile to your face. The train slides under old arches brown brick bridges. COWS! Now I’ve seen cows too!

Upon getting to Bath I decided to find a place to rest my now-broken bag. I needed accommodation and quickly. There was too much to see and I was getting frustrated that I had to use both hands to carry my pride and joy handbag and therefore was unable to take any photos or spend time perusing the streets. I wanted to “do” Bath and see everything as quickly as possible! There was no time to waste so I headed down a street that a lady at the tourist information place advised was the cheapest area to stay. I found a three storey town house among the guest houses, knocked on the door to be greeted by a lovely man with a ‘blood and bone’ accent. 99.75% of people will not know what I mean when I say a ‘blood and bone’ accent. Basically it refers to a television gardener I used to watch and his accent, he always advised to put ‘blood and bone’ on your soil to make your flowers bloom beautifully. I wish I knew the area, the people really roll their R’s and you mistake them for not being the brightest spark in the fire… infact he was friendly and welcoming and the place felt like home. It was warm, the interior is white and bright. There is a large room with tables and chairs where breakfast is served every morning, a lovely large lounge room to the front of the house with windows overlooking a small garden and the street beyond. There is a lamp post at the front of the house with a swinging sign advertising ‘vacancies at Waltons Guest House’. I’m assuming this was Mr Walton him very self.

After signing the guest book I was taken up the ivory green carpeted stairs, past the prize plates on the wall, the large ornate mirror and blue-white porceline glasses and into room 3, opened with a red key. My red key for the next few days. The room itself… well its like an Australian hallway, but equipped with an exceptionally small closet which acts as a toilet and shower (the settings were lovely however, shining porceline and I couldn’t wait to have a shower under that fabulously huge shower head), wooden dressing table, wooden chair, wooden single bed and television attached to the wall. Hanging from the ceiling was a small crystal and white-steel chandelier.

From the window the sun shone in over chimney tops across the way – I briefly smiled thinking of Mary Poppins dancing on the roof tops – and warmed the room. Ahh, peace… quiet… and safety.

But there was no time for relaxation (I had completely forgotten the purpose of this trip, which was to sit, read and write… not go crazy site seeing like I had been for the last three weeks!). I changed my jacket, brushed my hair, tied my bag together after taking out the dreaded laptop that had been the bane of my existence since I bought the damned thing, and headed out.

After being in London… and may I say… being in Tooting… my first impression of Bath was that it was:
a) clean… very very clean
b) quiet… there were quite a few people in Perth standards, but to me that suddenly felt empty
c) safe
d) easy – I felt that I could walk everywhere I wanted to go, could navigate the streets relatively well, the whole place seemed welcoming and pleasant.
I was happy, but there had been a cloud over me for the past few days… missing people, missing one person in particular. After spending every waking moment with one person, it is so unbelievably, indescribably, difficult to be without them, especially when you are doing things you have never done before, and wanting so much – with every element of your being – to share those moments with them, for me, with him. But I tried to push this to the side, along with all of the emotions that had been welling up for the past few weeks. I had to conquer, I had to enjoy – I was forcing myself but knew I would appreciate it in the long run.

I was off and intent on conquering Bath in a period of two or so days. What a feat – could I manage it? I was still thinking that if I tick everything off my list – ridiculous. I was loosing the purpose of my journey, it was not about ‘doing London’, ‘doing England’ or even getting the ‘travel thing’ over and done with. I have been waiting for this experience my whole life and here I was throwing it away. I needed to calm down – as everyone was telling me – but until this moment, in which I write to you, I didn’t realise what was happening, I was too wound up in my emotions, running in my mind… I was getting so tired and didn’t know why, but looking back I see that I’ve been racing the clock… for no reason at all.

But now… here… in this moment – I was rediscovering my desire and was determined to make the most of it…