Written June 2017
July 29-31: Bath, England
Sites: Llewellyn warned us not to go to Stonehenge because it’s “kitschy and boring” but I’m so, so glad that we did. On a whim we decided why not, and booked a tour through our hostel, which pretty much just included a bus ride and handheld pre-recorded device. The ring of stones had a much more mysterious, sacred feeling about them than I expected. We quietly walked along the ropes that kept us and others from getting too close. The sky showed many colors of gray, which turned out to make it a perfect setting. Also in Bath we rode bikes through tunnels — some of them extremely long and nearly completely dark — and stopped at a small pond for lunch. On one bike ride we stopped off to explore sacred burial grounds and even crawled inside a few. We sat in a public square and listened to a musician sing “Galway girl” and bought trinkets, including Lance’s sun-operated dancing Queen of England, a British flag magnet and British flag printed baby socks that I yearned to put on our baby’s feet some day.
Lodging: In Bath we stayed at St. Christopher’s Inn, a backpacker hostel that included a free (measly) breakfast, for 142 Pound (about $190) for three nights. I say measly because the breakfast was toast and a few dry cereals and maybe a piece of fruit. Still, it was something. This place wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great. We had a private room that had bunk beds: a single bed on top with a double below. I remember it being muggy, but we were so exhausted that one day we spent almost the entire morning inside just to give ourselves a break. The shared (stalled) bathrooms were down the hall, and luckily when I showered not another soul entered the room.