English Traffic

Pultney Bridge, Bath, designed by Robert Adam

The GPS in our car speaks with an American accent, which is new for me because in the past I have always been told where to go by Miss Moneypenny. The GPS, aka "bitchface," "you f*&^*" or "*&^*" told us the estimated travel time from Bath to Sissinghurst was two hours. Laugh. We left Bath at 10:00am and arrived at Sissinghurst at 4:30pm. Allowing for the odd misdirection by Miss GPS (e.g. "At the next traffic circle, take the fourth exit", thus directing us to do a U-turn, or, directing us to travel 2 miles in one direction and then do a U-turn and come back the other way. True.) the remainder of the delay was due to all 60 million people that inhabit this island travelling from Bath to Kent today, apparently. I started longing for the Hay Plain, just so I could get away from all the other jolly long-weekenders (it's a Bank holiday on Monday).

The Hay Plain.

What I can't understand is how large swathes of England remain so picturesque when it is so small and there are SO MANY PEOPLE? It's all like this:

Actually, it's not, but this is a holiday blog, so I avert my eyes from the large piles of rubbish bags heaped outside houses, homeless people, graffiti and tabloid headlines. 

Bath is really beautiful. The whole city is a World Heritage site and there must be a building ordinance directing that all buildings be constructed from Bath stone, a mellow creamy-yellow stone. 

Roman Baths looking toward Bath Abbey, completed 1499

We stayed in a small hotel called Tasburgh House, in Bathhampton. The lovely woman who owns it lived in Kirribilli for two years and would love to live in Australia. We said we would swap places with her. That was this morning, before the big drive.