Since I now had a full blown cold, I wasn’t going to travel, mainly because my next junket was to fly to Dublin. If you’ve ever flown, you know the pounding headache you can get if you have a cold at the same time. So that was off the table. Besides, it’s fun, interesting, and informative here in Bath. Really enjoying my stay.
I pleaded with the nice gurl who always seemed to be at the hostel’s sign in desk to get me into a room where there aren’t too many people so as to protect as many as I could from the germs I was spewing out fairly regularly as the cold symptoms peaked. She did her best but the 4rd night I was there I ended up in a 10 person room as the smaller rooms had been booked by groups of people traveling together. My bunk was a bottom one, in a fairly large room, and apart from the main grouping of bunks. So that helped, and it was her doing. As the roommates came in downstairs, she’d warn them about my cold and I did the same up in the room. Yes, I did try to get a private room but those too were booked. Some of them weeks in advance so it wouldn’t have been fair to those people for the hostel to cancel on them. And, I did keep my Nyquil very close at hand and keep a cover over my mouth as much as possible. Gah. No fun.
Since I spent so much time in the hostel’s seating/dining area, thought I show some pictures. I’m on a not-very-comfortable vinyl couch. Nearby is an electrical outlet for my tablet, and a handy cup of coffee. The bar and kitchen are off in the direction of that blue sign above the entryway. They have a few big screen TVs and I soon found that this bar was fairly popular with the local Aussies who would come in here en masse, packing the joint while they all watched satellite broadcasts of their favorite rugby team that had reached the finals back home. That had happened two nights ago, and was to happen again tonight. I didn’t mind of course, it’s kind of fun being around a bunch of fans whooping it up during a game. It was funny, but I knew what the rugby schedule was by now, and a guy with a thick Aussie accent who had just arrived to stay in the hostel, as he passed me he muttered something about missing the rugby match. I was able to point out that no, he hadn’t. That it was on the tellie, here, tonight. Gained a new friend and someone to talk to for a time.
Don’t remember what the hell this is. Looks like part of the hostel though.
Oh, wait, yes, I do remember. They had a basement club. This is the main room early on so there’s no one here. Big screen TV. Sort of looks like a speakeasy.
Whenever the symptoms of the cold eased up a bit, I’d wander out to enjoy Bath and wander her streets. This obelisk was erected in 1738. The obelisk and park had pretty much gone to seed in the mid 20th century but it’s looking pretty nice now after the recent restoration. I sat and enjoyed the spring warmth and sunshine for nearly an hour. Very nice here. Baking a cold out of yourself in the warm sunshine is highly recommended.
Another of those fleecing stations.
I did notice these boats along the waterfront…on the Avon. Just a mile down from Pulteney Weir. I was thinking, Hey, didn’t I just read that the river isn’t navigable below Pulteney Weir? Well, yeah, I did. Sure looks navigable to me. Here at least.
Later I found that these boats are more homes than watercraft. Sure they can move a bit here, downstream a little, or upstream using the locks at the weir, but they seldom do. You can rent some of these. They did all seem to be filled up though because only one carried a rental sign.
I do not recall if this is part of the ancient aqueducts the Romans were so fond of building or not. It’s pretty neat, whatever it is. I did walk over that way and inspect it.
6th Day in Bath…
The next day, cold had slacked off somewhat. Started the day with a slug of Nyquil, headed downstairs for breakfast, read, surf, coffee, back upstairs after all the kids have left, to take a shower, a few more hours nursing a couple more coffees, then some more wandering the town. This is inside the church that’s right across the street from the hostel. Kinda purdy. Would make a great bar and restaurant. I’m sure it’ll be one soon as hardly anyone goes to church in England anymore.
This shopping mall was designed to fit into the ambience of downtown when it was built just a few years ago.
And here I am in the tiny bar across the street from the hostel. That interactive view in the link shows Belushi’s on the left, where I’m currently staying, than the church just up the street, and on the right the little pub where I spent most of my time afternoons. If it looks like it’s out of proportion, not very tall, that’s true. The bar is so old, when it was built, street level was 12″ lower. So you have to duck your head, and step down into the tiny place. Here’s a shot of the bartender just behind the bar where on this day, I couldn’t sit because there were 5 people there already when I came in. At least for a while I couldn’t sit at the bar. 
After they left, the bartender was happy to oblige when I asked for a picture of him and me back behind the bar. I’d been at the bar often enough that I was becoming a regular. Plus I always left a big tip.
By now, late afternoon of the 6th day, my cold had eased up quite a bit, so it was time to move on. I’d suspected as much a couple days before, so I’d already booked my flight to Ireland. Tomorrow was to be a travel day. If you ever get the chance, do not miss visiting Bath. What a nifty place to visit. Make sure you stay several days too.
7th Day in Bristol…and on to Dublin…
Next morning around 8 AM, I head over to the bus & train station, dragging my luggage, and met my bus on the street right in front. It’s only 4 blocks, thankfully. There’s a bus every few hours heading toward Bristol where I’d grab a flight to Dublin. Wasn’t very crowded.
Here’s some western England scenery. 
And an hour later, we’re at the airport. Easy breezy.
The Bristol airport is the first airport where I’ve lost something out of my luggage during the security check. And I don’t mean something that’s confiscated. For some reason, the security person removed my see-through plastic pill holder, which had all my vitamins, BP, and aspirin pills in it, and set it in the tray following my luggage. At least I think that’s what he did. It was missing shortly afterwards. I didn’t notice it might have been in that next tray when I picked up my bag and computer satchel and so lost all my pills and the pill carrier. That’s the only thing I’d lost this entire trip so far. Damnit. Lucky that they aren’t serious medicine. As in I can go weeks without.
I did have quite a long wait in Bristol. Arrived at 9ish in the morning and my flight to Dublin wasn’t until 3 PM or so. Lucky the Bristol airport has a very nice cafe where I had a most delicious cafe’ and a tart. Yumm.
And here I am at the Dublin airport around 4 PM. Flight wasn’t long, just over an hour.
By 5 PM, here I am viewing the Samuel Beckett Bridge in Dublin, Ireland.
And a wee bit later, as my Irish ancestors would have said, I’m at my AirBnB flat. Had my own room and everything. Bright and cheery, nice and big, with plenty of closet space, and a nice comfy bed. Also had a window for cooling breeze if needed. The host spent most of his time upstairs in his room/office while I had most of downstairs to myself.
After stowing my luggage, I took a stroll in the neighborhood and walked about 100 feet when I realised, oh, hell, everything on this street looks exactly the same! How am I going to find the apartment? I retraced my steps, but could not find the door. Crap! Nothing I saw jogged my memory since all the doors & buildings looked exactly alike. Thought I was screwed. 
Couldn’t even call him because I’d left my phone inside. It would have sucked having to wander up and down the street knocking on doors and trying my key until I found the right place. To top things off, my host had left on an errand so his car wasn’t outside his door. Every single door looked like every other single door. Every building looked the same. Deja vu all over again. I didn’t recognise any of the cars on the street from when we’d driven up and parked. Eventually, after a desperate search in my jacket pockets, found the slip of paper that had the address of the apartment on it. Whew. But of course, Irish addresses are confusing as hell and it took another five minutes to make out a match between the address I had, and the addresses as labeled on doors and buildings. If I’d not brought my jacket with me with the scrap of paper with the address, I’d have been screwed.
Finally, worked it out, found the wrong door at first, but just next to it, the right door and my key fit. After checking in with myself, off I went, to explore the neighborhood a little. Twenty minutes later, I’m eating a halal chicken dinner at a smallish arabic restaurant just up the street. And soon after, back home, a little TV, and off to bed for some reading and sleep.
See you next time…from Dublin!