Return from Bath

We were men without a home yesterday. We checked out of our B&B about 11 a.m., and we had to wait for an evening train. So we stored our bags at the guest house and went back into central Bath to explore a bit more.

I took Dave and Olga down by the river, where I'd visited the day before. We had a pint in a pub and talked dogs with some of the locals. I'll say this for Olga -- she is a great conversation piece. Everyone wants to know her breed (we're not sure), her age (we're not sure) and whether she's had puppies (ditto).

Dave wasn't interested in any more sightseeing, so while he dog-sat I went to Bath Abbey. It's where King Edgar was supposedly crowned as monarch of a united England about a thousand years ago. There's a window commemorating his coronation.

After the Abbey we walked, and walked some more. We had lunch, we had coffee.

See our reflection in the teapot? Olga is giving Dave a big ol' wet kiss.

Anyway, we managed to kill the day, and we finally got on a train at 6 p.m. bound for London. The dog was so exhausted she fell asleep in our laps, and she's asleep even as I write this. I think it's going to take her a week to recover.

We got back to London shortly before 8 p.m., and the Notting Hill Carnival was still pounding its way through our neighborhood. The streets were rivers of people. The gutters were heaped with litter. Olga impressively braved the crowds without batting an eye, and we were relieved when we finally gained the sanctuary of our apartment, where the windows were vibrating to the thud of the bass from the music in the street below. (Not that much of a sanctuary.)

Fortunately, though, the mayhem didn't last much longer. The music stopped between 8:30 and 9 p.m. and when I looked out the window about 10 p.m., most of the people had dispersed. Street sweepers were left to cope with the mountains of Red Stripe cans and jerk chicken bones.

Mission Accomplished -- we survived another Carnival!