bath: where the past boils and the streetlights are bad at judging

i woke up this morning to a temperature that could only be described as 'coffee with a sides of existential dread.' 9.92 degrees celsius, according to my watch. it’s not a number, it’s a mood. feels like 7.25 here, which means my body is either convinced it’s december or this is just how bath rolls. either way, i’m hiking without a jacket and questioning all my life choices. don’t judge, it’s beautiful. or maybe you should? did anyone else see the map icon flicker at 2am? probably not, but i did. weird.

bath has this weird vibe. like someone spilled ink on a history book and then tried to sell it as designer coffee. the roman baths are still here, but they’re not, like, ‘historical landmarks’ or whatever. they’re just warm water in a building that smells like old wood and questionable life decisions. i heard that from a guy selling artisan honey in a park. he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. which is fair. i, too, would prefer to be anywhere else. unless the place is granting me inspiration. which it’s not. it’s giving me a headache. maybe the weather? who knows.

last night, i ate at a place called ‘the fishy apocalypse’ based on a review i overheard someone yelling at a bar. they said the cod was so fresh it was crying. or maybe that was a hallucination. either way, i’m skeptical. the place looked like a converted bus station, which is both charming and a red flag. but i took the risk. the cod was good. the staff talked about the weather like it was a personal trauma. ‘it’s always too cold,’ one repeated. ‘today? it’s like it’s trying to freeze my soul,’ said another. i added it to my mental bucket list of places to avoid during a heatwave.

if you get bored, bath is just a short drive from bristol. or london. or whatever city the gps thinks is closest. i took a wrong turn once and ended up in a field with a shed that looked like it belonged in a steampunk horror movie. the owner offered me tea. i declined. i preferred the existential dread of standing there. turns out, she runs a gallery of lost hats. i almost didn’t believe her. but then she showed me a pair of top hats in various stages of decay. it was vivid. nature’s way of saying ‘nope, not you.’

the reviews here are a mess. i heard that the castle is haunted by a guy who lost his bet to a tavern. locals swear he decorates the towers with apostrophes. i told my friend this. she laughed.‘is that a thing?’ she said. i don’t know. i saw one apostrophe on a plaque. it was judging me.

i took photos of everything. the streetlights are all wrong. some are facing upwards like they’re trying to reach the sky. others are sideways, like they’re judging me. i don’t know if i’m overthinking it or if bath is trying to tell me something. probably the latter. the weather’s not helping. 10.96 degrees max today. feels like 10.96 degrees max. i checked. it’s there. hope you like that kind of thing.

there’s an unspoken rule here: if you see a bench, don’t sit. the ghosts of disgruntled poets apparently haunt them. i almost sat once. stopped myself. now i just walk past, muttering prayers to whatever deity bath might have.

i asked a barista about the weather. he said it’s like bath’s personality. moody, inconsistent, and slightly salty. he offered me a free coffee if i reviewed his place on yelp. i said no. i’m not that person. but i did leave a note in the comment section: ‘this coffee tastes like regret. but i’ll take it.’ it’s probably fake. i hope it’s fake.

someone told me that the best way to experience bath is to get lost. which is great advice from a drunk person on a street corner. i got lost. found a hidden bookshop that sold maps to other dimensions. probably not real. but i bought one anyway. the clerk pretended he didn’t see me. which is odd because i was holding a map. maybe he’s just bad at his job.

there’s a park here called ‘centre park.’ no, not the famous one. this one’s smaller. it’s got a statue of a guy holding a seagull. the seagull is missing. locals say it flew away after judging someone’s taco. unfair, i think. tacos are sacred.

i’m not sure if bath is a place to visit or a warning label. the architecture is old, the weather is indifferent, and the people have stories. mostly about the weather. or the lack thereof. or the time they tried to sell expired cream at a market. that was intense. i stayed away from that market. mostly.

if you’re coming, check tripadvisor for bath. don’t trust yelp. they have too many one-star reviews from people who expected a theme park. local boards are better. i found one on bathmessageboards.co.uk. it’s chaos. people are arguing about the best fish and chips place. i joined the debate. i’m still waiting for a reply. probably because i wrote in all caps. ‘FISH AND CHIPS IS A LIFE CHOICE.’

in the end, bath is whatever. it’s not gonna change your life. but it might change your perspective on puddles. i now think puddles are judgemental. they all look at me like i’m out of place. which i am. but also, i’m here. so that’s something.

p.s. if you’re a coffee snob, do not come to bath. the coffee is like tea that failed. unless you like tea that failed.

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