How lovely it was to stay in a truly comfortable, well-run hotel, particularly after some of the very ordinary places I've stayed in recently. The Castlefield Inn in Chettle, last night, was perfect in almost every way, from its large beds and fine deep bed covers, to the extravagantly luxurious flow of water from the three-inch-across shower-head and the simple elegance of the fittings and furnishings. And it was only forty pounds ($60) per night, can you believe!

I woke up early to my alarm, since I wanted to work out and have breakfast before setting off. But it felt wonderful to snuggle in bed a while in the complete silence of the morning, silent, that is, apart from the dove cooing again.

Oh, that wonderful shower!

Sitting with my newspaper, as I poured my coffee in the beautiful dining room, while a light rain speckeled the windows, and the birds chattered in the misty green depths of the garden, I felt a little like a suddenly landed gentleman, the effect compounded by knowing that my custom-cooked breakfast was being prepared in the kitchen. I could get used to this :)

Breakfast time

By the time I was on the road, the rain had stopped and the clouds showed hints of blue between their ragged edges. I drove through quiet country roads, heading north, lush countryside spreading out around me as I rose through the low-lying hills. I suddenly realized what a gift I'd given myself, this period in the South West of England, time to leisurely explore and experience the best of the countryside.

Stopping to admire the breadth of the countryside

By late-morning I was in Bristol, parking on the banks of the ship canal to visit the SS Great Britain. The ship has had an incredible history. It was designed by Isembard Kingdom Brunel, the famous engineer, in the 1830s, and with its revolutionary length, iron hull and screw-populsion, it was the forerunner of all modern ocean liners. It lived a checquered life, however, once its days of carrying passengers was over. For a while, it ran coal as far afield as San Francisco, before ending up permanently moored in the Falklands as a store ship, where it was eventually scuttled in 1937. In 1969, the great hull was raised, amazingly, still fully intact, and towed back to the same dry-dock in which it had been built 130 years previously, for restoration.

Ahoy shipmates :) Turning the wheel on the SS Great Britain

Looking up at the bow just abaft the bowsprit

The other site in Bristol I wanted to see, the famous Clifton Suspension Bridge, was also designed by Brunel. The bridge spans the Clifton Gorge, a very deep chasm near Bristol. I was trying to recall why I was so compelled by this bridge when I was a kid. I remember that I had posters of both the bridge, and the SS Great Britain, and a photo of Brunel. Maybe it was his name that so intrigued me, with its exotic sound: "Isembard Kingdom Brunel."

One tower of the Clifton Suspension Bridge. An amazing feat of engineering for any time, considering the great depth of the chasm being bridged. But particularly amazing when you realize it was built starting in 1836. By the way, I tried to take photos showing the whole bridge, and the chasm, but they didn't come out - the sun was in the wrong place, darn it!

Okay, how many landmarks can you stomach in one day? How about a whole city that has been designated a World Heritage Site? After taking a late lunch in Bristol, I drove the ten miles back south to Bath, a city I've always been told to visit by my American friends, many of whom seem to know England better than I do! I parked near the city center, and set off in search of the tourist information office so that I could get a street map. Thus armed, I started my tour at the Roman Baths which gave the city its name.

On the steps looking over the Roman Baths.

The baths were lost and buried centuries and centuries ago, until they were rediscovered by the Victorians. They put them to good use, adding pavillions, and elaborate changing rooms, and it became quite the thing to come and take the waters at Bath (the baths are fed by a natural hot spring), leading to the celebrity of the city across Europe, and an influx of the leisure classes and high-society.

It must have been something like a gold rush judging by two obvious facts: the literary mentions given the city (it must surely have played a role in more novels than any other city of its size); and the extensive Georgian housing. Bath presents the appearance of a city that was almost built in a day, so contemporaneous does each street seem with its neighbor. And it's almost a miracle of urban planning, with its sweeping, grand facades, its small, intimate alleyways filled with little stores and coffee-shops, and its plazas (none of which, however, compare with the piazzas of Florence, a city to which Bath frequently compares itself). In the small streets, and in the parks, it's possible to escape the crowds and appreciate the urban serenity that still remains (since traffic is barred from large sections of the city center).

Relaxing in a deck-chair in the Parade Gardens. In the background is the Pultney Bridge, a residential bridge that gives rise to the second comparison with Florence.

On the left, Bath Abbey, and on the right, the house where Jane Austen lived for three years.

Two of the most impressive architectural "set pieces" of Bath. Top, the Royal Crescent. Bottom: a montage of two of the three segments of the circular "Circus" (there are three great trees in a grass lawn in the very center of the circle).

Around 6.30, it was time to head out of Bath to try to find my hotel, which is in a village just to the east. I found it rather easily, and it was another large old house which has been comfortably renovated as a guest house. If I hadn't stayed at such a wonderful example last night, I'd have probably raved about this one; but in fact, in comparison, this appears more like a well-lived-in, slightly untidy family house.

Looking out into the garden of my hotel, with the hillsides of Bath in the distance.

I haven't been running as regularly as I'd have liked to, mainly on account of travel-fatigue and bad-timing. I think, in all honesty, I've been getting enough exercise recently hiking up and down hills! But tonight, I took advantage of the quiet countryside to go for a run along the back lanes. I felt so privileged to be here right now, sampling a different way of life. What a great trip this has been so far! There have, yes, been times when I've been lonely. But so many moments I'll always remember - some of them sublime, like seeing the Sistine Chapel: but many of them completely simple, like running along a quiet country lane with the low sun slanting shadows across my path.

A montage of quick photos taken during my evening run. (My smaller camera is small enough to carry in my hand while I run).