Bath Abbey

After spending quite some time in the Roman Baths, our group was ineveitably split up, so I waited outside the abbey for everyone to meet me there. The bells started to ring while I sat there waiting. There is a rather ethereal quality to church bells, imagined or not, its a beautiful sound. Not quite cheerful, more promising, or hopeful. The group started to recongregate and while we were waiting for the rest to join us, we spent a few minutes in the Abbey. I am not catholic, nor do I see myself ever converting to catholicism, but they do have the most beautiful churches. I love the gargoyles and the stained glass. From the outside it is so imposing, intimidating rather. With tall spires and dark windows, graceful arches and epic proportions, it sits next to the baths, almost daring you not to be impressed. Upon entering, a small gasp did escape, I must admit. The ceilings swoop up, with large ridges creating an almost dizzying effect. It is dimly lit, to create a dramatic atmosphere, or because it's impossible to light so much space, perhaps a combination of the 2. It is not silent, but there is a hushed quality to the sound. Where on the outside the stained glass is dark and rather dull, inside it is vibrant and glossy. seemingly lit from some ethereal, other source. I chose a wall and walked down it. It was covered in memorials. I love the feel of marble under my hands. Some were so old the writing was barely decipherable. One particular memorial stood out. Most of the memorials were simple, 1 dimensional blocks of a creamy, standard marble set within the wall, providing a name and dates, and perhaps an epitaph or "beloved spouse" but this one was darker marble, and came out from the wall, with cherubs and angels carved around the edges and the most beautiful prose, english that has been lost in common use, eloquently formed sentences and sentiments that would be given quizzical looks were they reproduced today. I couldn't tell you exactly what it said, just that it was beautiful and heartfelt. I almost desperately had to touch it, to make it relevant, to make it real, and not just something beautiful I was seeing. Marble is always so cool, and polishes so smoothly. I love the feel of marble under my hands. Then came the quiet voice asking us to please depart as the Abbey was closing. Knowing perfectly well its a loudspeaker, you can't help but look up... It was only a few minutes that we spent in there, but I felt everything in me relax, there is something about churches, if one is comfortable with one's religion or spirituality, that so invites reflection and tranquility. Leaving was to once again re-enter the real world, of street performers and unicycles, pasty shops and cars, sights, sounds and smells that bombard you so abruptly it takes a moment to find your balance again. It had been so quiet in the Abbey.

The Roman Baths

A group of us went to Bath on sunday (Feb. 15th) and of course had to see the Roman Baths exhibit. You can't go to Bath and not see the baths. I was a little irked that it was 9.50, seems a little steep to me, and that was with the student discount! But they have to get funding somehow, especially as they still have so much to excavate. We were given little cellphone type things to listen to our audio tour guide. There were numbers posted beside each different exhibit, and to hear about that exhibit you just punched that number into your "cellphone" and that way people can go at their own personal pace, which in my case was quite slow as I tried to listen to every single audio clip, and some of them had options for extra information! So needless to say I was in there about an hour longer than the rest of my group... but you just can't put me in a museum and say "Hurry", it just won't happen. There was a certain level of cheesiness that had to be overlooked and I tried not to cringe at the ridiculous audio re-enactments. I was impressed with the information given, enough to educate those that wanted to learn about ancient Roman Britain, but stayed just surface level enough so as not to become tedious. It can be difficult to find a balance sometimes.
There is one thing that I always struggle with when I visit a museum. And that is that a small part of me is a horder, and so even though I know it is important that these artefacts be put on display for the benefit of all, I can't help thinking they would last longer and preserve better in a vault, or some sort of sealed room, without all the cheesy, tourist-pleasing accoutrements. And that these people can't possibly appreciate them for what they are so they should be tucked away somewhere (I know, I really should give the average person the benefit of the doubt, as I myself am one of those average people). I obviously am so very grateful that they aren't, as that means I can see them, but another part of me is always a little bit saddened as well. The Roman Empire was one of the greatest, if not the greatest empire this world has seen, and what is now crumbling rock and rusting metal was once a glorious temple. It is difficult to wrap one's head around that sometimes, and I wonder what would the people who once frequented these baths and this temple think of something that had been so sacred, such an integral part of their society being reduced to glass cases that children smudge with their inevitably dirty hands, that tourists gawk at and take pictures of usually without bothering to read the placards next to them. I can't help but wonder if anyone else is having the same experience as me?
I think one of my favorite artefacts was the gilded head of Minerva. I couldn't help but develop my own theory. At the end of the audio clip they mentioned that her body still hasn't been unearthed, but are without doubt that it eventually will be. There is speculation as to why her head was removed, as there is evidence of intentional removal. I was surprised that they didn't mention the penchant "celtic" peoples had for removing the head of a worth adversary. It was believed that the head was the seat of the human soul, and that by removing the head of an enemy or adversary, it showed them great respect, and represented great power. To take the head of a powerful goddess would be quite something indeed...
To stop and consider the monumental significance of such ancient ruins can be a heady experience. Even more so to consider that they weren't always ruins, that at one point people came there on a regular basis to bathe, to worship. It can be difficult for us to remove ourselves from our own reality, to step out of the present and fully immerse oureslves in the past, but to do so is to better understand the present, to put it in perspective, and to realize there is something bigger than we are. These ruins are bigger than we are (yes, obviously physically, but that isn't what I mean and you know that) they exisited thousands of years ago, before even the advent of christianity, and it is entirely possible they will continue to exist a thousand years from now. To comprehend such an existence is almost impossible. It can really make one think...
The city itself I found quite charming. I was sorely disappointed that the art museum was closed for renovations, perhaps another time. There were quite a few things I would like to return for. We passed a small museum and historical house that I would have LOVED to peruse, but it was 5 pounds, and though I would be willing to fork out 5 quid to wander aimlessly through an old house filled with Georgian architecture and paintings and furniture (oooh I really must go back) I knew not everyone I was with would be quite so keen. And the Abbey... there shall be an entire other post for that. More time really must be spent there. And I'm sure there are other numerous attractions throughout the city. Perhaps I'll just take the bus myself some other sunday afternoon, and then I don't have to worry about taking too long in a museum. Good idea Becca.
I also made everyone stop to watch a street performer. He had a 10 foot unicycle, and I thought he was just going to ride it (who would just walk by that and say "I don't want to see a man ride a 10 foot unicycle"...?) but he of course had to have an entire show, which was quite funny, I really enjoyed his sense of humor and his necessary brazen attitude. I don't suppose one can be shy making one's living performing on the street. He did eventually ride the 10 foot unicycle, and though he didn't get up there on his own, it was, obviously, quite impressive. I love just walking around a new city. Especially with someone who knows it spouting random historical facts. I love random historical facts. It was, all in all, quite a successful trip I would say, particularly the catnap I took in the car on the way back to Bristol! A return trip really is necessary, and since it is so close, it shouldn't be a problem. But perhaps I'll wait until after we've gone to Stonehenge. Oooh now there's a trip to look forward to! I should start planning that...

Bristol City Museum and Art Gallery

I went there today, just for about 45 minutes as they close at 5 and I didn't leave my house until late afternoon. It is such an immense building. And perfect for a museum. There are so many random nooks and crannies and alcoves filled with stuff, or just a random bust or vase. I really need to go back when I have a few hours, well if we're being realistic I'll be back on a fairly regular basis. For those of you reading this that don't know me, I love museums, and I don't say love lightly like "Oh my gawd, I like love museums" I have a passionate, unexplainable love of museums. I just described it as unexplainable but I'm going to try to explain it. My biggest interests in life are people, history and the history of people; their legacies, material or immaterial. I want to know whatever I can about people, past and present. Museums for me represent a sanctity of humanity, and whether what's on display is exquisite or in fact quite ordinary, it doesn't matter, its just that some one felt is was important enough to document and share with others. The thing is though, I have to either have an entire day, or be able to return multiple times. The first time I like to just scope things out, see where everything is, do a cursory examination of the exhibits, and then I like to go back through and take my time to appreciate everything. Many exhibits are often extremely overwhelming at first, but when you slow yourself down and focus, it is amazing the little things that you would never have noticed before, like the detailed beading on a Sioux suede belt, or the small carving of Horace on that ceremonial jar. I think being able to see and experience these things allows us to relate to whomever owned them, whether it was only a few hundred years ago, or 5,000. At the foundation of it all, it really doesn't (or shouldn't) matter that you yourself are not Sioux, or Egyptian, because we are all members of humanity, and that should be relation enough to appreciate that culture.
The Bristol City Museum has a pretty decent Egyptian collection, which surprised and impressed me as they are expensive to preserve and restore. With something so old, any change in climate, air pressure, temperature, anything, could contribute to its demise. They also had an impressive Assyrian bas relief, it was quite large, and mounted into the wall. When I entered the room, there was a couple already in there, and the room was dark except for a few lights (too harsh of light, or too much also damages artefacts) and as I stood there, the woman stepped over the little blockade around the relief and TOUCHED IT! She ran her hand up and down it! The antiquarian in me had a mild heart-attack, and I just stood there speechless. She just touched it, like it was a tile sample at Home Depot. I stood there thinking but all I did was stand there gaping incredulously. I'm sure they thought I was simple or something, because i just stared at them with the same expression on my face as they left. Even now, I can't believe she touched it. Do you know how much damage the oils and dirt from your hands could do to an artefact that old?!
After I got over my shock, I continued into the Egyptian exhibit, and as I was looking at different grave goods they had in glass display cases, I could hear screeching and giggling coming from around the corner, and I just cringed and hunched my shoulders, preparing myself for an onslaught of teenage girls, and sure enough they came, like a herd of wild animals, pushing one another, laughing, yelling (in some other language, didn't recognize because I was so irritated) I just stood there waiting until they passed, which they eventually did. I always get so irritated when I encounter people like that in museums. No, its not a library, but why come if you are just going to run amuck, not evening looking at the exhibits, disturbing the people that actually want to learn about ancient Egypt (even if the informational signs don't go very in-depth)? It's just a complete lack of respect, and between that and Grabby, as I've dubbed her, I left with this disappointment slightly overshadowing the euphoria of having visited such a beautiful museum. I will be going back, and I'm going to sequester myself in the back galleries where the shallow, average museum goer rarely ventures and its going to be glorious. Now I know what to do with myself on the days I don't have lecture! If you ever can't locate me or get ahold of me any day between the hours of 10 am and 5 pm, try the museum!

Buses

Bus, a shortened version of omnibus, is a form of public transport relatively common in most developed countries. I ride the bus almost every day. Any time I want to get in to town, I just jump on the 54 or 54A. I generally sit on the second level, and if there isn't someone there already, I sit in the very first row, right smack in front of the window. I love sitting there, you can see everything. I'm usually joined eventually by children, sometimes pretending to drive the bus themselves. One sees some rather interesting characters when riding the bus, particularly after the sun sets.... There was the crazy old man who just wanted to know the time (I got off at the wrong stop because he stressed me out so much) and the girl who just whipped out a bottle of nail polish and painted her nails on the bus, the large group of girls all dressed in short skirts, white blouses buttoned to there (or unbuttoned to there I should say) knee high socks and entirely too much make-up to be tasteful, but I don't suppose that was ever their intent. I've already seen 3 people I know from the bus, and I'm always tempted to knock on the window or wave my arms about, I usually don't though, I have some restraint! At first it's slightly stressful how slow it goes, as traffic is atrocious, but you get used to it after a while, and I usually just sit and enjoy doing nothing for a half an hour, or however long it takes to get where I'm going. The buses are generally fairly clean in the morning, but at the end of the day, there is usually a fair amount of trash rolling around your feet. My favorite was the old guy sitting in the very front who downed a large can of beer, belched, and then just dropped the can so it rolled noisily around everyone's feet, very charming. I actually had to sit next to someone the other day. I don't usually, but it was morning and everyone was on their way to work or school. I avoided it as long as I could, but I eventually just put my purse in my lap and scooted to the window seat. I have this weird thing about being in too close of a proximity to people I don't know... but he was quiet, and smelled nice, the only words he said were "Do you need to get off here?" at the stop where half the bus got off, but as it was about 8 in the morning, my vocal chords weren't quite working yet so I just shook my head and continued to stare out the window. I like being able to just observe, and not have to stress about driving in the traffic. Whenever I would drive, especially the route from Reno to Rocklin, I always wanted to just look out the window because it was quite pretty, but then I'd be likely to drive off the side of the mountain, so I just stared at the road. My favorite part of the bus ride into to town, is when we reach the top of Whiteladies, there's a goreous view of Bristol and some of the surrounding hills. Dusted with snow it was quite picturesque. Getting off the bus is sometimes a bit distressing, especially getting off in front of Border's, at the top of Park, because it's always sooo busy, there's the scaffolding and weird divider things to navigate, and as soon as the doors open, there's a rush of cold air, and noise, and a feeling of stepping back into reality, where I have to participate. It's neither good nor bad, it's just an odd feeling sometimes.