So I booked this one day trip to Stonehenge and Bath, prior to leaving LA - at a cost of £55 per person. When the bus shows up around 8a.m. outside St. Pancras Library, a tall, chirpy platinum blonde with what I think is a slightly odd northern accent checks us in but not before asking where we're from- when we say LA she says oooh take me with you! Must say Brits have become kind of forward since my last visit! Amazingly for this part of the world, the bus has AC - which is great - though remains mainly unused thereafter, which is not as great.
After wasting an hour inside London, stopping at various stations to pick up more passengers, we are finally on our way. It later dawns on me that the guide is in fact Spanish- well when I say dawns on me, I mean I heard her speak Spanish to a couple of passengers. So her accent is actually a mix of European and Northern English and her every statement is followed by a "yeah?" - "so we'll be leaving in 5 minutes, yeah? Please make sure you're back in time, yeah? It's very important, yeah?" Unlike me, my friend found this highly amusing and in no time had elevated the annoying verbal tic to a very posh sounding "yess?" and was adding it to the end of her own sentences for the rest of our stay.
For those who have not seen it up close, Stonehenge is exactly what you see in the pictures: a giant rock formation dating back to who really knows when. It's a neither here nor there kind of thing: interesting because it's historic but otherwise slightly pointless. You can't touch the stones of course - yes one person in this group wanted to - you know who you are.
Upon arrival, blondie, who had been deathly silent up until then seemed to suddenly awaken from a deep slumber and began to introduce us to the legend - which, let's face it, is not exactly carved in stone. Were grand ceremonies held there thousands of years ago? Was it a burial ground? Was it to guide lost pilgrims home? Or the site of an alien landing perhaps? How did the stones even get there?? No one really knows but apparently a lot of people care. Here, the guide was talking sooooo sloooowlyyyy and deliberately that she sounded like she was on some form of illegal substances and after a few more minutes of this disturbingly gentle lullaby of a narrative, I seriously started suspecting brain damage. It was such an underwhelming, almost whispered little speech that at times it seemed like she was actually struggling for breath. Perhaps she thought she was communicating with a bunch of children. Again, my friend found this drug induced little turn quite soothing apparently.
Sadly, or perhaps not, the guide did not extend her oratory services to the actual visit at Stonehenge and once disembarked, we walked around in the gale-force winds sporting one of those audio guide things instead. At the gift shop the queue soon snaked around the entire floor which was the size of my shoe (which is not that large in case anyone's wondering) making it very difficult for us to be back at the bus on time without risking public lynching. Yeah?
At our next stop, Bath, an hour or so away, once again we have the same monotone intro and subsequent abandonment by the Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds tour-guide. I have to admit that Bath is quite beautiful - at least the parts that we were shown. For a dreaded moment, some of the streets were a little reminiscent of San Francisco with the constant ups and downs, but the architecture is absolutely remarkable.
As for the famed Roman baths themselves: the water is green and in certain parts even orange, at once gross and intriguing and although completely surreal, looking at the aging statues and damaged columns, the sense of history is striking.
Lunch at Sally Lunn- as highly recommended by the sleepy guide- clearly in cahoots with one another, was interesting. The place is on two floors, but ridiculously small and filled with older clientele - it's basically an old English house converted to a restaurant, so cozy that the people taking the table next to us knocked the water over on our table when attempting to squeeze through to their seats. The food was not memorable, so do yourselves a favour, ignore the false advertising by the tour-guide and eat elsewhere.
Back in London, after much contemplation and negotiation with the passengers, driver and guide dump us at the nearest tube station because it would take less time to get back home on the train than it would on the bus navigating through rush hour traffic - so be warned. A little unexpected and cheeky perhaps, but ultimately, a fairly practical suggestion.
Okay, rant over. read more
