I was lucky enough to be invited to Bath to celebrate with the family this weekend. So at 4pm on a Friday afternoon, I found myself sitting in York station in anticipation of a 5 1/2 hour journey ahead. Long train journeys are something I’m becoming very accustomed to but there isn’t much that can prepared you for a very loud phone conversation being had just across the aisle, for the majority of the journey.

Our day ended in the stunning Tasbourgh House Hotel. Despite our late arrival, the owner greeted us full of smiles and showed us to our rooms at the top of the house. The hotel sits atop a steep hill. This is not ideal when you are on foot, heading back and desperate for the loo, as I discovered to my cost. But the positive it that from our windows are some truly spectacular views of the City.

The following morning, we awoke to the smell of freshly baked pastry and a wonderful breakfast spread including homemade granola, toast, and croissants. After a lazy breakfast, we were ready to face whatever the day had to throw at us. Of course, we headed straight for the spa.


At Bath Thermae Spa I had my first massage. I’ll admit it was a little odd at first, particularly when I sat down with the masseuse to have a talk about my general health what I wanted from the massage (to relax?), and then she left me to get (almost) naked. I’m not the sort of person who’s all too comfortable with being exposed to strangers. Though I’ll admit I’m not as bad as my friend who claims she can’t even look in the mirror naked…

Back to the massage. I hadn’t expected to find it so strange, someone touching my back, but a couple of minutes in and it stopped feeling odd and started just to be lovely. I’m sure my brain slowed down and 50 minutes were up in a flash. Then we were onto the actual spa. By this time it was somewhat busier and the gorgeous roof-top swimming pool was a little packed. Each pool there seems to have currents and if, like mine, your muscle have decided to take a break by that time, you can find yourself awkwardly close to some bathing-costume-enrobed strangers. Overall, a morning at the spa was a gorgeous treat, though I wouldn’t have wanted to stay longer than our allotted two hours.


In fact, by that time, our oh so long and tiring morning had left our stomachs rumbling and we headed out to Lunch. The Great Bath Feast is on all this month and the foodie in me desperately wanted to make the most of it, but sadly, the rest of that day had to be devoted to work, since my uni term has just started again, and at full throttle.

Possibly the loveliest part of the weekend was the following morning. The hotel, set up on a hill, has a beautiful garden leading down toward the canal, so we followed the dewy grey-green grass down toward the town. The walk had an element of the fairytale to it. We past a stenny of bee hives and crunched over late-fallen apples until we reached the train line, at which point the scenery became less brother’s Grimm, more steam punk. I’m a rambler at heart and an early morning, late autumn walk does more good to my heart than any spa day.

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But all too soon, the serenity of my morning was punctured by the clock and I was headed back to the station. My train took me northward into an all together bleaker landscape, though one with it’s own kind of beauty.

I hope your weekend was as lovely!


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