SomersTownLisa

London Life
2022-01-05 12:32:08 (UTC)

Bath / 'The Electrical Life of Louis Wain',

Saturday 01/01/2022
Walked down to Ashton Court for the ParkRun. Seeing no sign of preparations, I followed a couple of potential entrants, who went in different directions. I saw a marshall who told me the quickest way to the start was down the grassy hill, on which I slipped, resulting not just in a dirty calf but with my running shoes covered in mud on one side. I couldn’t see anyone else I knew. The run was up a fairly gentle slope, which got steeper, then back down the same way. Unfortunately the path became stoney near the top, though it wasn’t as bad for my feet as when I was wearing my trail shoes in Wales recently.

I realised that if there was anyone I knew, I would certainly see them as I passed, and I did notice when looking at the results that there was another participant from my running club, but he didn’t acknowledge me if he did see my shirt.

Not surprisingly, as the run was so hilly, and with my speed deteorating in general, I did my slowest time yet. I then followed the crowd after the race instead of going back the way I’d came, but although I was clearly on a different path, this meant a longer run back to our flat, I managed to sue CityMapper to find a route. I saw a footpath which would have gone along the river, but I wasn’t sure whether I would be able to get up to the suspension bridge from that path. Instead I realised that the road route elevation would need to be the equivalent of the height of the huge bridge.

I was back at10:10, and Jack had only just got up, so we left a bit late, bot that anyone was aware, as we just had to drop the key in a keypad box. As we were expecting to be in Swansea that evening before changing our plans, we had booked a second hotel for one night, the Washington, which happened to be just across the road from the flats. It was a conversion of about three large houses. We left our bags there and ran to get the 10:41 train from Clifton Down, which didn’t exist; Jack had once again made the mistake of relying on Google Maps for train times. The 11:00 was cancelled due to staff being off with Covid, so walking up to a large common which, we learned from a notice, joins the grassed area next to the Avon, so would be a great running facility. We also went down a quiet road which had three pubs close together, one dating form 1700, so this was clearly the original high street.

We got the 11:26 to Temple Meads but the staff shortages made things a bit chaotic. One train was cancelled, so we went and waited for a slow train which on arrival sat in the station for so long that we missed a fast train to Bath, which was where we were heading. We realised the next slow train was almost due to go, so we changed to that one, only for staff to ask us all to leave that one so it could be shunted around. So we went back onto the now-packed tarin we’d been on before, until we were advised to return to the other train which had returned. To get some space, we went to find a fast train, which left later and was a bit delayed but was more comfortable. It left about 14:06 so we’d been faffing around for ages.

We looked for vegan restaurants, but all the ones we tried were closed, which didn’t matter as we got to walk around Bath which is such an attractive Georgian city. Eventually we went in a thai restaurant almost opposite Moles club, where we used to go to gigs. We then walked up to the Pulteney Bridge and along the river to the beautiful Tivoli cinema. We sat in the ornate bar for a drink, then to our 12-seater screen, with lounge attached. We saw 'The Electrical Life of Louis Wain', which seemed oddly structured until I remembered it’s a true story, about an artist for the Illustrated London News who wasn’t interested in financial gain but had somehow to fend for his five unmarried sisters and their mum. He married their governess but she died prematurely. It starred Benedict Cumberbatch and Toby Jones.

This time we got a fast train back to Temple Meads, and had a decent collection to the local train. We still had to register at the hotel, and had time for a walk to Clifton Park Gardens, then back up the hill to the attractive area we’d visited previously. There was a nice old pub in the back street behind the East Village café, and Jack suggested we go there for a drink, but to me there didn’t seem much point.




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