OK, I should probably take a pause from revelling in Paris to write about Bath and the rest of my time in England. But before I do so, I do need to update you on the important question of vegetable pectin jellies. I have not yet tried them all, but the fennel and tomato ones are lovely (the tomato ones taste like some sort of stone fruit – peach or apricot or nectarine), and the capsicum one is *deeply* weird. It tastes like a sweet capsicum jelly. Which is what it is, of course But I’m not at all sure that capsicum was ever meant to be a dessert flavour, even if Jacques Genin says so.
So. Bath. Which is already nearly a week ago, how did that happen? My friend E organised the entire Bath trip, which was awesome, because both of us, alas, had the plague – I was still beginning my plague, and E was at the long, drawn-out, endless coughing stage of hers. This was good in some ways, because we were both entirely in agreement about not overdoing things, and it was amusing in other ways, because at any given moment, one of us would be completely spaced out on cold drugs. Fun times!
The train down was an exercise in two people who really shouldn’t be using their voices chattering incessantly. Oops. But we don’t see each other often, you see…
We got to Bath, and went in search of our B&B, which turned to be uphill from the train station. Continue reading