Great British Weekend. Spas and style in Bath
The staid old city has loosened her stays and gone all sensual. Sunday Times, 4/11/2007
Remember when Bath was where you took Aunty? Where a day out meant an open-top bus tour, a visit to the Jane Austen museum, shopping on Milsom Street, and a Bath bun and a cuppa at the worlde-famous Sally Lunn’s House? Well, think hard before bringing her here these days because this World Heritage city has recently been coming over all stylish, even sensual. With the re-opening last year of its public mineral water baths, not to mention several new or made-over hotel spas, Bath has become all about bathing again. New lodgings have begun to appear in this revived resort including the funky-trad Residence B&B (01225 750180; www.theresidencebath.com, doubles from £135), which even boasts sex toys - I did warn you - in the bedrooms. Bath clearly couldn't cope with the sex toys; the Residence has long closed. And if that weren’t enough, Bath has also emerged as a regional foodie capital – the city hosted Channel 4’s Taste Festival earlier this summer - with new eateries serving startlingly good, locally sourced grub in pared-down pub- or café-style surroundings. Here’s a city which has gone from staid heritage and retail experience to haven of the senses. Aunty, you’re fired. I’m taking Ash, my wife. And we’re going to get pampered.
Day 1: Friday
5pm: We draw up at the Bath Spa Hotel (01225 444424; www.bathspahotel.com) to be met by a man in full morning suit. It’s Simon, our butler, who comes as standard at the hotel’s newly opened Imperial Suites (from £269 per night), 21 apartments in a ‘private luxury residence’ standing in the hotel grounds. Simon’s previous employers include Bill Clinton (‘the nicest boss you could ever work for’), so he’s definitely the man to unpack our bags and bring us a settling-in glass of champagne and some canapés. He even replaces the toothbrush Ash has forgotten to bring. Then we robe up to check out the hotel’s brand-new £3.5 million spa facilities, with its outdoor hydro pool and the thermal suite’s five hot and cold areas. There’s even a salt infusion room, with its touch-of-the-button saline mist for that invigorating sea-breeze feeling.
8pm: A ten-minute walk across Cleveland Bridge brings us to the King William (36 Thomas St, 01225 428096; www.kingwilliampub.com). This former dodgy boozer was recently reborn as a superb gastropub by on-hand owners Charlie and Amanda Digney. There’s a Dickensian feel to this bustling townhouse, with a convivial downstairs bar, stripped boards and rickety staircase leading to a parlour-style, light-filled dining room. Just the place for grilled sardines and pickled blackberries followed by stuffed loin of rabbit (£22.50 per head for two courses). The Digneys have repeated the trick at The Garrick’s Head (8 St John’s Place, 01225 318368; www.garricksheadpub.com) beside the Theatre Royal.
Day 2:
6.00am: No time to start a Saturday, this, especially after that second bottle at the King William, but you can’t keep a hot-air balloon waiting (Bath Balloons, 01225 466888, www.bathballoons.co.uk, £149 per person, refundable on cancellation due to weather except for a £10 admin fee). The truth is it’s a beautiful morning, and it’s not long after our 15-person basket rises over the Royal Crescent to a chorus of awe-struck oohs and aahs that we’re totally won over. The wind direction means we don’t get to fly over city centre highlights like Queen Square and Pulteney Bridge. No matter; even the football stadium at Twerton looks wonderful from 1,000 feet, especially with a glass of champagne to hand.
11am: There’s only one thing for it after our early start, and that’s brunch and a snooze. It’s picnic in a park time. We pick up the picnic at Blackstone’s Kitchen (2-3 Queen St, 01225 443303, www.blackstonefood.co.uk, 8am-6pm daily), a gourmet takeaway where almost everything is prepared in-shop. We grab curried lentil and sweet potato soups (£2.75) and share a sweet chilli prawns, mayo and coriander sandwich (£3.50). A couple of brownies (£1.50) also find their way into the bag. Blackstone's another failed business, sadly. As for the park, we look no further than the award-winning riverside gardens at North Parade (10am-7pm), all Georgian colonnades, ornate border displays, band stands, a fine tea shop - and essential stripey deck chairs (free with the £1 entry fee) for that tactical time-out.
3pm: Mmm. That late already? Time for a spot of sightseeing. There’s nothing like a glimpse of hard work - other people’s – to enhance one’s own leisure time. The Museum of Bath at Work (Julian Road, www.bath-at-work.org.uk, 01225 318348; every day Apr-Oct, 10.30-4pm, £4) is a splendid collection of weird period machines and merchandise largely saved from a former Bath engineering works/carbonated drinks factory. Things Bath – Bath chairs and Bath stone – feature in this little-visited reminder of just how much more there was to Bath than endless tea dances at the nearby Assembly Rooms.
5pm: With floats attached to my legs, I’m being swirled around a restored Georgian bathing pool in water naturally heated to 35 degrees by specialised therapist Jan. I’ve plumped for a water-borne surrender called watsu; Ash has elected to be wrapped in seaweed. Treatments are extra (£60 for a 50-minute watsu session) at the Thermae Bath Spa (Hot Bath Street, 01225 331234; www.thermaebathspa.com, 9am-10pm daily) where entry to the public steam rooms, restaurant and thermal pools – the roof-top one is a must - costs £20 for a two-hour session. Booking is advised at weekends.
8pm: With all the watsu and seaweed, we’ve gone beyond relaxed. Bushed is the word. Back at the Bath Spa Hotel, Simon wonders what he can do for us. Draw a bath? Order up room service? We opt for the quickest of dinners at the hotel’s Med-style Al Fresco Restaurant – whole Lyme Bay crab for starters (£12.50) followed by pan fried calves liver (£15.95) – before piling into bed.
Day 3. Sunday
10am: For a waymarked walk in the country which begins and ends in the city, there’s nothing like Bath’s famous six-mile Skyline Walk (download map and directions at www.nationaltrust.org.uk/bathskyline, or pick up a leaflet at the tourist information centre in the abbey churchyard). The slope means we puff a bit to begin with, but we’re soon cooing over the views of the city as we cross the meadows below Sham Castle, Regency developer Ralph Allen’s stone façade of a folly. We disturb the deer deep in Bathwick Wood while the watery lines of river and canal – Avon and Kennet and Avon respectively – lie stretched along the valley below. The leisurely 3-hour circuit culminates in a panoramic descent to reach the city at Widcombe.
11am: It’s hard to imagine what Queen Victoria, Clive of India and the city’s other worthy residents and visitors would have made of the new, hands-on Bath. It’s a fair bet, though that William Beckford, literary aesthete and all-round millionaire prodigal with a spectacular weakness for extravagant edifices, would have approved. Which is why we’ve followed a late breakfast with a five-minute bus ride (2 or 702 from Lansdown Road, get off at Ensleigh) to the man’s remarkable Italianate tower and museum (01225 460705; www.bath-preservation-trust.org.uk; Weekends Easter-October, 10.30-5pm, £3) on Lansdown Hill. The 40-metre tower, restored by the Landmark Trust in 1999, houses a Beckford exhibition while the climb up the spiral stone staircase to the belvedere repays the effort with balloon-quality views over the city, Salisbury Plain and the Severn Valley. The surrounding cemetery is all Gothic romance where Beckford lies in a typically overblown sarcophagus among canted, ivory-swathed headstones.
4pm: We’ve been shopping. We’re in Bath, aren’t we? Ash has been at boudoir emporium Mee (9a Bartlett St, 01225 442250; www.meeboutique.com) while I’ve been checking out newly launched independent bookstore Topping’s (3 Bladud Buildings, 01225 428311, www.toppingbooks.co.uk). What we’ve pointedly done is skip lunch. We’re making space for tea at the Royal Crescent (01225 823333, www.royalcrescent.co.uk; £16.50 per person, booking essential), which is to Bath what Fortnum’s is London. ‘A venerable institution,’ says I. ‘A pig-out, you mean,’ says Ash. Either way, the hotel gardens at the rear of the Royal Crescent – espaliered beech trees, huge oaks, table-strewn lawns and flower-filled borders – are a great setting. There are nine blends of tea to choose from, and the silver cake stands come laden with finger sandwiches, fancy fondants and tartlets, Bath buns and a range of fruit cakes. Oh, and there are scones to go with the cream and jam.
5.30pm: Back to the Bath Spa Hotel where Simon has packed our bags for us. Which is excellent news because waddling to our waiting car is about all we’re good for after that little lot.
Further information: www.visitbath.co.uk
Day 1: Friday
5pm: We draw up at the Bath Spa Hotel (01225 444424; www.bathspahotel.com) to be met by a man in full morning suit. It’s Simon, our butler, who comes as standard at the hotel’s newly opened Imperial Suites (from £269 per night), 21 apartments in a ‘private luxury residence’ standing in the hotel grounds. Simon’s previous employers include Bill Clinton (‘the nicest boss you could ever work for’), so he’s definitely the man to unpack our bags and bring us a settling-in glass of champagne and some canapés. He even replaces the toothbrush Ash has forgotten to bring. Then we robe up to check out the hotel’s brand-new £3.5 million spa facilities, with its outdoor hydro pool and the thermal suite’s five hot and cold areas. There’s even a salt infusion room, with its touch-of-the-button saline mist for that invigorating sea-breeze feeling.
8pm: A ten-minute walk across Cleveland Bridge brings us to the King William (36 Thomas St, 01225 428096; www.kingwilliampub.com). This former dodgy boozer was recently reborn as a superb gastropub by on-hand owners Charlie and Amanda Digney. There’s a Dickensian feel to this bustling townhouse, with a convivial downstairs bar, stripped boards and rickety staircase leading to a parlour-style, light-filled dining room. Just the place for grilled sardines and pickled blackberries followed by stuffed loin of rabbit (£22.50 per head for two courses). The Digneys have repeated the trick at The Garrick’s Head (8 St John’s Place, 01225 318368; www.garricksheadpub.com) beside the Theatre Royal.
Day 2:
6.00am: No time to start a Saturday, this, especially after that second bottle at the King William, but you can’t keep a hot-air balloon waiting (Bath Balloons, 01225 466888, www.bathballoons.co.uk, £149 per person, refundable on cancellation due to weather except for a £10 admin fee). The truth is it’s a beautiful morning, and it’s not long after our 15-person basket rises over the Royal Crescent to a chorus of awe-struck oohs and aahs that we’re totally won over. The wind direction means we don’t get to fly over city centre highlights like Queen Square and Pulteney Bridge. No matter; even the football stadium at Twerton looks wonderful from 1,000 feet, especially with a glass of champagne to hand.
11am: There’s only one thing for it after our early start, and that’s brunch and a snooze. It’s picnic in a park time. We pick up the picnic at Blackstone’s Kitchen (2-3 Queen St, 01225 443303, www.blackstonefood.co.uk, 8am-6pm daily), a gourmet takeaway where almost everything is prepared in-shop. We grab curried lentil and sweet potato soups (£2.75) and share a sweet chilli prawns, mayo and coriander sandwich (£3.50). A couple of brownies (£1.50) also find their way into the bag. Blackstone's another failed business, sadly. As for the park, we look no further than the award-winning riverside gardens at North Parade (10am-7pm), all Georgian colonnades, ornate border displays, band stands, a fine tea shop - and essential stripey deck chairs (free with the £1 entry fee) for that tactical time-out.
3pm: Mmm. That late already? Time for a spot of sightseeing. There’s nothing like a glimpse of hard work - other people’s – to enhance one’s own leisure time. The Museum of Bath at Work (Julian Road, www.bath-at-work.org.uk, 01225 318348; every day Apr-Oct, 10.30-4pm, £4) is a splendid collection of weird period machines and merchandise largely saved from a former Bath engineering works/carbonated drinks factory. Things Bath – Bath chairs and Bath stone – feature in this little-visited reminder of just how much more there was to Bath than endless tea dances at the nearby Assembly Rooms.
5pm: With floats attached to my legs, I’m being swirled around a restored Georgian bathing pool in water naturally heated to 35 degrees by specialised therapist Jan. I’ve plumped for a water-borne surrender called watsu; Ash has elected to be wrapped in seaweed. Treatments are extra (£60 for a 50-minute watsu session) at the Thermae Bath Spa (Hot Bath Street, 01225 331234; www.thermaebathspa.com, 9am-10pm daily) where entry to the public steam rooms, restaurant and thermal pools – the roof-top one is a must - costs £20 for a two-hour session. Booking is advised at weekends.
8pm: With all the watsu and seaweed, we’ve gone beyond relaxed. Bushed is the word. Back at the Bath Spa Hotel, Simon wonders what he can do for us. Draw a bath? Order up room service? We opt for the quickest of dinners at the hotel’s Med-style Al Fresco Restaurant – whole Lyme Bay crab for starters (£12.50) followed by pan fried calves liver (£15.95) – before piling into bed.
Day 3. Sunday
10am: For a waymarked walk in the country which begins and ends in the city, there’s nothing like Bath’s famous six-mile Skyline Walk (download map and directions at www.nationaltrust.org.uk/bathskyline, or pick up a leaflet at the tourist information centre in the abbey churchyard). The slope means we puff a bit to begin with, but we’re soon cooing over the views of the city as we cross the meadows below Sham Castle, Regency developer Ralph Allen’s stone façade of a folly. We disturb the deer deep in Bathwick Wood while the watery lines of river and canal – Avon and Kennet and Avon respectively – lie stretched along the valley below. The leisurely 3-hour circuit culminates in a panoramic descent to reach the city at Widcombe.
11am: It’s hard to imagine what Queen Victoria, Clive of India and the city’s other worthy residents and visitors would have made of the new, hands-on Bath. It’s a fair bet, though that William Beckford, literary aesthete and all-round millionaire prodigal with a spectacular weakness for extravagant edifices, would have approved. Which is why we’ve followed a late breakfast with a five-minute bus ride (2 or 702 from Lansdown Road, get off at Ensleigh) to the man’s remarkable Italianate tower and museum (01225 460705; www.bath-preservation-trust.org.uk; Weekends Easter-October, 10.30-5pm, £3) on Lansdown Hill. The 40-metre tower, restored by the Landmark Trust in 1999, houses a Beckford exhibition while the climb up the spiral stone staircase to the belvedere repays the effort with balloon-quality views over the city, Salisbury Plain and the Severn Valley. The surrounding cemetery is all Gothic romance where Beckford lies in a typically overblown sarcophagus among canted, ivory-swathed headstones.
4pm: We’ve been shopping. We’re in Bath, aren’t we? Ash has been at boudoir emporium Mee (9a Bartlett St, 01225 442250; www.meeboutique.com) while I’ve been checking out newly launched independent bookstore Topping’s (3 Bladud Buildings, 01225 428311, www.toppingbooks.co.uk). What we’ve pointedly done is skip lunch. We’re making space for tea at the Royal Crescent (01225 823333, www.royalcrescent.co.uk; £16.50 per person, booking essential), which is to Bath what Fortnum’s is London. ‘A venerable institution,’ says I. ‘A pig-out, you mean,’ says Ash. Either way, the hotel gardens at the rear of the Royal Crescent – espaliered beech trees, huge oaks, table-strewn lawns and flower-filled borders – are a great setting. There are nine blends of tea to choose from, and the silver cake stands come laden with finger sandwiches, fancy fondants and tartlets, Bath buns and a range of fruit cakes. Oh, and there are scones to go with the cream and jam.
5.30pm: Back to the Bath Spa Hotel where Simon has packed our bags for us. Which is excellent news because waddling to our waiting car is about all we’re good for after that little lot.
Further information: www.visitbath.co.uk
