Chasing Jane, Chapter Ten: Bathing With Romans

I join the queue snaking outside the Roman Baths. Thankfully, it's in the shade of the building. Despite the length of the queue, the wait isn't really that long. Perhaps about 20 minutes.

The baths are, in a word, amazing. While most of what you see is a recreation of the baths based on archaeological finds and other baths throughout the Roman Empire, the baths themselves, even the very water, is original. The pavement around the pool is original, as well, and there are bits and pieces of mosaic still clinging to the walls. You can almost hear the slap, slap of the Roman soldier's sandals against the flagstones, the rattle of dice and the murmur of voices.

The baths, in Roman times, were not simply for taking a dunk, scrubbing up a bit, and hopping out, they were for socializing, as well. Patrons would have lounged around the pool on cushions playing games of chance and chatting about... well, whatever stuff the Romans chatted about. More than likely the same things we chat about today: the weather, how our favourite gladiator did in the ring yesterday, the stupidity of politicians, and the latest gossip on Marcus Leviticus and his new main squeeze. Norman, ordinary, every day stuff.

The Baths of Aquae Sulis, however, were a little different to most baths. There was a temple here, once upon a time, and the Romans came to pray for recovery from wounds or sickness and to soak in waters they believed had the power to heal.

The baths also have a catacomb of hallways and caverns turned into a museum, showing off actual artifacts and original pools once used in various healing practices. The museum is packed elbow to armpit with every over excited school child on bank holiday and tourist determined to get the most out of each and every pence.

I start to feel just a bit panicky. The old claustrophobia is kicking in. It's better than it was. It had better be. Living in London doesn't allow for such ridiculous phobias. But I still feel the old panic rising. So I seek out a quiet, dark cavern. Cool in the heat of the afternoon and away from the warmth of the hot springs pouring into the baths. It's peaceful here. Quiet and calm. Strangely enough, during Roman times this would have been the busiest of all the rooms in the baths. It was the furnace room and it would have been boiling hot and constantly churning with slaves stoking the fires.

After a mere 30 minutes in the baths, I've had enough and rush out into the fresh air. I decide, quite firmly, that I shall return to Bath and view the Roman Baths first, when the day is cool and the crazy tourist still abed. We shall leave the pointed fact that I am a tourist out of the equation. That is completely beside the point.

By this time I am ravenous, and as anyone who knows me will attest, I get slightly... grumpy when hungry.

With food uppermost on my mind, I head back to the wonder that is Sally Lunn's. Those buns have been calling me! I sit at that very table

nearest to you in the photo and order a sandwich on a Sally Lunn bun.

When it comes, it's heaven on a plate! The bun is soft and light and sort of, creamy. Lightly toasted with a small bit of mayo and topped with hot grilled chicken and melted cheese with a green salad on the side. Served with fizzy lemonade. Naturally.

I shamelessly eavesdrop on the women sitting at the table next to me while I devour my lunch. One is English and one is from Germany and they are gossiping about people I don't know, but it's fun to listen to their accents and their attitudes, so different from American ways of thinking.

Finished with my repast, I leave my coins on the table and head back outside to continue my adventure. I realize with some regret that I am becoming quite tired and feel the need to return home soon. But I've a few more places to check out before I go....