Heaven (though the locals call it Bath)

Oh man, Bath was just the best. I can safely say that it was one of my favorite places that I've traveled to during this whole year. Mainly because it was a completely spontaneous trip and everything went smoothly (not something I'm used to, clearly if you read this blog. If you don't, you have a lot of catching up to do. I'll wait). My friend Rachel was in town and after dinner one night (Indian, natch), the following occurred:

INT - SARAH'S ROOM - NIGHT

Rachel:  "You wanna go to Bath tomorrow?"

Sarah (without a beat): "Yup."

Rachel: "You wanna drive there?"

Sarah (without a beat): "Yup."

END SCENE.


So that's how these pictures happened:

Rachel, summing up everyone's feelings. 

Me, looking more confident then I should.

Once I said a quick prayer and stuffed some tissues into the armpits of my shirt to catch the inevitable river of nervous sweat that was bound to fly out of my pores, we were on our way! En route, we stopped in Windsor to take a quick look at my future summer home:

I wonder if this would fit all of my makeup?
I'll have to talk to the Queen.

I could get used to this.

After driving and sweating out about five pounds, I was obviously hungry, so we found a place to eat lunch. OH YA, AND IT WAS THE MOST ADORABLE STREET EVER.

Did I take a wrong turn and end up in Italy?

Once we got over our obsession with everything Windsor, it was time to restock my armpit tissues and continue the age depleting drive to Bath.

Now, let's get something clear. I love driving. Even weirder, I love driving in cities (my theory is that the city atmosphere really allows for my road rage to blossom to its full potential). However, put me in a smaller town with windy roads and no railings to keep me from plunging to my death and I'm hitting curbs left and right and causing people to create a nice long line behind me because I refuse to go faster than a jogger. TO DEFEND MYSELF, I'm also on the wrong side of the road AND the car. But at least this is what we were driving along:

It'd be a long way down. Just sayin.

It's too pretty to die in, yes?

Yup, I know.

We finally made it to our destination- an awesome B&B called The Boathouse, that very sweetly took our reservation at 9pm the previous night and still gave us a nice room instead of sticking us in a broom closet (which is what I would've done if someone tried to book something with less than 14 hours notice. Plan your day better, you pain in the ass!). Nevertheless, they were wonderful and so was the setting itself.

 

Rach, pondering life.

Me, being an 8 year old.

Once I was done jumping on the bed, it was time to head to the city and explore the old Roman baths. I mean, just look at this history guys:

Jump in? Y/Y?

I don't know what this, but...cool right?

After smelling the old water and stones, we ventured around and found a spa that had giant hot springs that we could float in and multiple SCENTED SAUNAS to sweat in (like I needed to do that more). Naturally Rach and I were in (YOLO, ya know?). Unfortunately we couldn't take any pictures while we were there, which is shame because the views were incredible and also the sad combination of the sports bra and underwear that I brought as a "bathing suit" would've been blog picture worthy, so instead here are some pics on the walk over to the spa.

THIS WAY TO AWESOMENESS

I mean, c'mon. Stop.

After the spa, we were so relaxed and rejuvenated that we decided to head back to the Boathouse and go for a run.


HAHA NO WE DIDN'T. We ate amazing food and split a pitcher of Pimm's.

Rachel's first! 

After the good food, drink, and conversation (because we're smart too), we enjoyed our remaining time at the Boathouse the next morning over some delish breakfast.

BOOKS. AND CANDLES.
They are ballsy at the Boathouse B&B

Rach and I are like an old married couple.

         

On our way out of town, we stopped by a few places including an ice cream place on a farm that wasn't technically open, but gave us ice cream anyways and a cute little tea shop on the side of the road that was TERRIFYING TO PULL OUT OF. TRUCKS EVERYWHERE.

Screw lactose intolerance!

But we made it out (clearly) and back to the booming metropolis that is London. We will always remember that one time we were spontaneous and drove a car in England without dying. Quite a thing to cross off one's bucket list.

Hi.

Until next time, I <3 Pimms. And Bath. But Pimms is close.