the crooked path to bath

for a few months now, some girlfriends and i were planning a short break to Bath for Valentine's Day. the plan was to indulge in a bit of spa, wine, chocolates, and relaxation courtesy of our Valentines en absentia. by all accounts, the weekend was absolutely flawless. we had a five-star experience complete with a eucalyptus-scented steam room, authentic Italian lunch, toppled Roman columns, riverside cafes, hours of chatting, sunny winter afternoons, and many bottles of wine. what's more to want?

but possibly the best part of the trip was what flawed it. how can you tell a story about something that is perfect or predictable? i find that the irregularity makes something interesting and unique.

so, nothing notable in Bath, but on the way there, amidst hours of very engaging conversation, carrie mentioned that it was Friday the 13th. oooooo......scary. not ten minutes later we discovered we had a flat tire. sweet. we exited to a petrol station and, of course, their air machine was out of order. the village was so small they didn't seem to have another petrol station anywhere near. but as our "bad" luck would have it, the only two shops in the town (that we later discovered was called "Frogmore") were a tyre center and Casa de Jed, serving hot tea and bacon rolls, and they were adjacent to each other!

i was relieved that young Rory could replace the tire whilst we enjoyed a cup of tea, and we were back on the road in 20 minutes. it was so absurd that we were cracking up -- we didn't know where we were, we were shocked that the fix was so simple, we all wanted some caffeine, and Rory asked for my facebook contact info. oh, and Casa de Jed did not serve nachos and "cannot guarantee that there are ingredients that may cause an allergic reaction in the food," but we can always hope.

and on the way back, we suddenly had to pee so badly that our eyes were turning yellow. so we hopped of the M25 into a town that had a one-lane road and found a cute pub with a chatty english woman that was so friendly that i almost fell over. i wish my locals were so happy to have a chat. and they even had good food!

it wasn't that the cake of Bath wasn't perfectly sweet, it was the detours that provided the icing.