I took Sal up to Bristol this weekend. The weather wasn’t quite as kind to us as it has been recently, but it was still lovely. Wandering around Clifton on a pleasant Saturday afternoon just makes me remember how much I miss the place. I guess you don’t really appreciate it until you leave.
Oh and we visited an extremely sunny Bath on Sunday. Spent some time sitting on the grass by the Royal Crescent… people playing with frisbees… a guy with dreds juggling… the smell of illicit substances being smoked by the gang of 14 year olds behind us…. it’s almost like being at a festival (oh, speaking of which, I just got our Glastonbury tickets. Lovely). In fact, the visit to Bath was only slightly marred by a minor road rage incident when a woman driving her car with the window down pulled up for a second and yelled at me (standing on the edge of the pavement, waiting to cross the road): “why don’t you watch where you’re going?” before driving off and giving me “the finger”.
I’m not sure which part of the pavement she would have had right of way on, so perhaps this was just general advice for the future. I had heard that Bath drivers were pretty ropey, so maybe you’re really not safe on the pavement and she just offers this information to all the visitors she sees around town. Perhaps she shouts other advice out as she cruises around. Things like “visit the roman baths!” and “watch out for pickpockets in the tourist areas!”. Maybe this is a kind of helpful tourettes syndrome.
I really wouldn’t mind, but what bothers me most is that I was so startled by being yelled at from a moving vehicle that I wasn’t able to come up with a witty response, and it was all I could do to reply “why don’t you watch where you’re going?”