Westbury, Salisbury, Portsmouth and Bath

15 May – London to Westbury – We had the system pretty well worked out to get to Paddington station using a bus to Slone Square then the Circle Line Underground to Paddington. It is ironic, but not unusual, that we now have a workable understanding of London Transport to use it effectively, and we are skipping town. It always happens. We had given ourselves plenty of time so we bought some sandwiches at Paddington Station and found a place to sit and wait. Christine was feeling a bit unwell anyway and I had a sore throat from the previous day. A RAT the day before had proven negative but we did start to worry a bit so we did the right thing and wore masks in the shops and train.

The journey to Westbury, in Wiltshire County, was beautiful, through rolling hills and quaint villages. The use of hedgerows as fences makes every farm a picture, and the spring plantings were all growing well. The canola is already in flower and most sheep in need of a shear. Some of the villages we passed through looked like they were out of a model train set, with really quaint railway stations and thatched cottages.

Our apartment was too far from the station to walk so we grabbed a Pete’s Taxi, that was waiting outside. In deference to the driver, we donned masks, by now thinking we probably had Covid. He was a chatty bloke who knew the address we gave him because he once stayed there before he moved from Southampton. Our apartment is an annex to the main house on the edge of a newish estate of detached houses in Westbury Leigh. The estate could be pretty, but every house looks the same and there are no trees to speak of. There are not even many lawns, with most electing to pave their yards. The roads are a twisting mess, as though someone dropped cooked spaghetti. It creates one of those crazy suburbs where you might have to walk 700m to visit you back fence neighbour.

We settled in, gave the place out tick of approval, then took a RAT. Damn, both positive. And both feeling it (not too bad, but certainly like a cold). We put the masks on and walked to the local Tesco to stock up on food. Christine let the owner of our AirBnB know, but she wasn’t concerned, saying that people had ceased to worry now and some even went to work.

16-17 May – Westbury Leigh – We had a couple of days lying around watching television and feeling sorry for ourselves. Christine actually felt ill and got a cough whereas I had a bad attack of the nose runs and much less of a cough. I took a few short walks around the neighbourhood, working out about the local trains to Salisbury or Bath and generally breathing some fresh air. It is annoying to finally get Covid, but at least we are somewhere for a week and can take the time to get over it.

We did take a long walk to the Aldi in Westbury to get access to a better range of goods. Once out of our new estate, the walk was really interesting, with a range of houses of varying ages. Our walk took us alongside the high stone walls of a military establishment, quite heavily wired off and listed as an officer selection facility.

The couple of days of feeling poorly passed with a lot of binge watching of series and lazing around. Eventually, we started to feel better and tested negative the next morning.

18 May – Salisbury and Portsmouth – We took a train into Salisbury, about 60km away, to pick up a hire car. Unfortunately, there are none available in Westbury or even Bath, so Salisbury it was. The local train are diesel railcars operated by Great Southern railways and are fast and comfortable. Our closest station, Dilton Marsh, is little more than a siding, and you have to hail the train as it’s not a regular stop. We watched some other trains hammer through the station and wondered how we would ever get ours to stop, but when the right train came, it was going slowly enough to easily hail it.

There is a rule in play if you have a residual cough from a cold or Covid. As soon as you enter a crowded space, you feel the urge to cough. No matter that half the others on the train are coughing anyway, it feels so awkward. The train rolled through some really picturesque surroundings, called the Salisbury Plains, but not all that flat. The underlying ground is white chalk, and there are quite a few “chalk drawings” carved into the hills around the district, including a white horse overlooking our town of Westbury. Near Salisbury, there is one called the “Rude Man”, and outline of a man who is somewhat well endowed.

Once at Salisbury, we jumped in a taxi to find the U-Drive outlet. The driver was a fun guy, pointing out lots of sights as we drove through the lovely city. I saw a Cornish Bakery flash by and he promised us the Cornish pasties were excellent.

Our car was ready, a cute little Fiat 500 Hybrid. It seats four in theory but I can’t really see it. However, it was just the thing for tight manoeuvring and parking, not to mention the 4L/100km fuel economy. It did have a few issues when we came across a big hill at 120km/hr on the motorway but it had 6 gears to play with. I found it a little bit off-putting to have everything in miles, the speedo, the road signs etc. It took me back to my early years of driving, before we went full metric. Christine can’t cope, quoting everything as kilometres, even though the maps are in miles. I actually had trouble giving the car back after three days of driving it.

The plan was to leave exploring Salisbury until we had to return the car, and spend the afternoon in Portsmouth, another 50km further south. The main attraction there was the Naval Dockland Museum, which houses HMS Victory, Nelson’s 100 gun flagship from the Battle of Trafalgar. I have always wanted to see it and to explore below decks. As well as Victory, there is the Mary Rose, Henry VIII’s great ship that sank in the Solent back in 1545 after a fight with the French. The wreck was recovered in 1982, along with the greatest collection of Tudor age artifacts ever found. The third big attraction is the Warrior, built in 1860 as the largest and most powerful warship in the World.

Navigation to the Historic Dock area of Portsmouth was easy, save for the last few blocks to correctly locate the parking area, and we were soon into the grounds. We purchased a 3 attraction ticket, allowing us general access and each of the three ships we were interested in. The ticket are valid for 12 months, not that we could take advantage, but it did mean we could do one or two today and come back later for the third. That idea proved a winner because after doing the Mary Rose exhibit, we were stuffed and decided to come back for the other two.

The Mary Rose is amazing for the science behind the preservation of the timbers. The ship lay on one side, the lower half quickly covered in silt, and so preserved over the years. The exposed side succumbed to the elements. The recovery effort involved digging under the half hull and lifing the entire thing, eventually housing it in a specially constructed atmosphere controlled environment. The chamber is air-lock controlled to keep humidity low. The basic hull structure and construction can be clearly seen. I still have trouble fully comprehending the enormity of human effort it took to construct a ship of the size of the Mary Rose back in the 16^th Century. Henry VIII is also responsible for the destruction of enormous tracts of English oak forests in the pursuit of naval power over France. The artifacts taken from the wreck cover all aspects of ship board life of the times. Even some of the clothing is preserved, especially leather shoes. Being a ship of war, there are weapons galore, more varied than later ships like the Victory, because in 1545 war at sea was more a matter of ships coming together and men fighting hand to hand rather than standing off and blasting hell out of each other with huge cannons. The display was superbly supported with audio visual presentations, although the low light conditions, done to help the preservation of the artifacts, got a bit hard to handle at times.

We emerged from the Mary Rose exhibit and knew that we were done for the day. After a cup of tea, we had a bit of a wander around the wharf area of Portsmouth before going back to the car. A stall selling seafood trays attracted out attention, for its quirkiness. Instead of the usual fare, it was whelks, pippis, mussels and lots of things labelled as “imitation”, such as lobster, prawn or crab. The signs pointed out that the imitation seafoods were indeed, processed fish soaked in juice of lobster or something else. We passed. Across the road, a couple of quaint medieval style inns were doing a good trade, as they must have done back in the day when Portsmouth was the hub of the Royal Navy. It is easy to picture the bustling life of the docks area back at the height of the Napoleonic Wars, with provisioners and suppliers all cashing in on the lucrative naval supply contracts. It would not have been the place to be wandering around idol, as the press gangs roamed freely ready to snatch up any available looking man for service with His Majesty.

Back to the car, we consulted Google Maps. It told us it was a 114km drive through Salisbury or 140km via the A303 bypassing Winchester, but a quicker drive, owing to traffic snarls through Salisbury. We opted to go via Winchester. Although we didn’t have any actual traffic jams, the drive seemed endless. We seemed to do 100km/hr most of the time but the trip still took 2 hours. Our drive did take us past the famed Stonehenge. First we passed a camping area, about 8kms before the actual site. The camping area looked like something out of a Woodstock movie, with many tarpaulin covered old tents. I picture lots of flower power type people getting ready to worship the summer solstice or some such thing. When the A303 ran past Stonehenge itself, the traffic was in a slow phase, and we got a really good chance to look at it. We had planned to visit on our way down to Salisbury in a couple of days but after driving past, we decided we had “been there done that”. It honestly looked like little more than a few rocks in a field. You can’t actually walk amongst the stones or touch them. The £21 per Senior fee gives you access to the Visitor’s Centre and a bus to the vicinity of the stones. We were happy with our view from the A303 and the £42 in our pocket. We have never been to the life size recreation of Stonehenge in Esperance, WA, but it is now on our visit list.

19 May – Bath and Frome –  Bath is about 25km from Westbury. We planned out a route to a parking station just over the river from the town centre, leaving a short walk. The drive was beautiful, often along tree covered roads, or bypassing stately manor homes and fields filled with sheep. We reached a point where we had to descend a long steep incline as the road wound down into the valley forged by the River Avon. The scenery was breathtaking. If there had been a convenient place to stop, I would have, but the speed limit was only 35km/hr for most of it so I was able to admire the view as well. Bath itself presented on the other side of the valley, everything clearly outlined because almost every building is constructed of a pale coloured sandstone, so the town limits are obvious against the bright green of the surrounding hillsides. The houses we passed were mostly beautiful Georgian or Victorian architecture.

Having located the car park, we strolled across the North Parade Bridge, stopping to admire the famous Pulteney Bridge upstream. Built in 1774 by the Pulteney family to service a new town across the river from Bath, the bridge is not only beautiful, but said to be one of only four in the World that have shops on each side. We have seen the Ponte Vecchio in Florence and the Rialto in Venice so we now have to go to Erfurt in Germany to see the Krämerbrücke if we want to complete the set. The appeal of the Pulteney Bridge is enhanced by the wonderful arch shaped weir in front of it. From the rear, the bridge is close to ugly, all the work being put into the downstream side. We waked along the river bank to the Pulteney Bridge. On the bridge itself, it looks like just another part of the street, with quaint shops lining each side, and no hint that you are on an actual bridge.

We walked down to the river where there was a small tour boat operating and picked up a 1 hour return cruise up the Avon. The cruise goes upstream to the little village of Bathampton, where another weir bars further progress. Along the way, we admired the many lovely houses dotting the banks, most with little boat houses or even barbecue spots near the river bank. The houses themselves were built well up the bank, apparently due to the size of the floods than can occur in big winters. We leant that there are five Avon Rivers in England. The word is an ancient Celtic term that means river, so the Avon River is the River River. Moreover, there are scores of Avons scattered across the Commonwealth of Nations. Technically, the one we were on is the Bristol Avon, because that is where it enters the sea. The banks are in excellent condition, carrying a lot of vegetation once away from the houses. We were told there are otters and kingfishers on the river, both signs of a healthy waterway, and many species of fish live in its waters. At Bathhampton, we could see the old waterwheels that used to operate mills and admired a couple of country inns that are said to be very popular on weekends. The bridge across the river at Bathampton is a privately owned toll bridge, charging £1 for cars to cross. Handling over a million cars a year, it is a nice little money earner for the owners, but it also has the effect of reducing traffic in the picturesque village, which would otherwise be overrun on weekends. It was a lovely cruise and well worth it.

Back in Bath, we walked the streets, pausing at almost every vista. Every building is a masterpiece, and the fact that much of the central city is walking only means that the streetscapes are easily admired. Christine was chasing a place that sells knitting wool, needing a ball to finish some socks. We enquired at a department store and were directed to a charity shop a round the corner. That drew a blank too. The bath Guildhall Market is a charming collection of stalls housed in a beautiful indoor setting and the first thing I saw on entry was a stall filled with balls of wool. Christine was in heaven. Wool secured, we walked on, into a large square, where we could admire the Roman Baths, after which Bath gets its fame. The Romans established the baths in 60AD, but it was in the 18^th Century that it became the place to be seen in English society. The square is also dominated by the glorious Bath Abbey.

Walking down an alleyway, we came across a Cornish Bakery. The display of Cornish pasties was extremely tempting. Christine declared she couldn’t eat a whole one and suggested sharing, a logical, if not unfortunate thing. I now have a new standard in excellence. Filled with lamb chunks, potato and carrot pieces, with lashings of pepper, it was superb. I could have eaten a whole one.

We made our way back to the car park, thrilled with our short visit to this beautiful city. It is one of the prettiest central city areas we have ever been in, full of history, and wonderful architecture.

We drove back up the hill, once again admiring the glorious houses lining the main street, although not relishing living on such an incline. With the GPS set for the town of Frome, about 20kms away. Smaller than Bath, Frome was once the largest town in Somerset before Bath became the society capital of the county. Google Maps took us into the centre of town, set deep in a valley, and it was obvious that parking was not going to be an easy thing. While Christine searched for a solution, I had no choice but to go with the flow and drive up the other side of the valley and get lost, trying to turn around. Eventually, we made it part way back down the hill and found a street that had parking available. It looked as though we could use a series of alleyways to wind our way down to the town centre. Our complete lack of planning proved a winner. We soon found ourselves walking down a couple of gorgeous narrow streets, filled with all manner of interesting shops, including a wool shop. It was a charming walk down, better than the main street itself. We walked around for a while, admiring the town, exploring the little side streets and lovely shops, until the threat of rain and dropping temperatures signalled an end to the day’s wonderful weather. We made our way back up to the car and set a course for home, the end to what was one of our best days of the whole trip.

20 May – Porstmouth and Salsibury – Planning for the day included dropping the car back in Salisbury by 5:30pm. We set out early enough to get us to Portsmouth for the opening of the Naval Docks at 10am, stopping along the way to top up the little fuel tank. It is a good thing that the car doesn’t use much in the way of petrol because it was £1.45/L ($A2.72), not the kind of expense we could handle for long with the kilometres we do in Australia.

The first exhibit we visited was HMS Victory. It is still a commissioned naval ship, and at 245 years of service, is the oldest in the World. Following the Battle of Trafalgar, it was repaired, then left at anchor in Portsmouth until 1922, when it was dry-docked.

Nowadays, the Victory is undergoing major restoration work. The hull timbers are in a condition that would mean the collapse of the vessel without intervention. A 20 year project is well underway to scrap the timbers back and treat them in a way to preserve and strengthen them. The props that hold the hull up are computer controlled, to automatically adjust to relieve stresses and strains. Unfortunately, this means that a large canopy has been erected over all but the bow and stern, and the masts have been taken down. I would have loved to stand on the quarter-deck and look down across the sweep of the main deck and up at the masts and rigging. Oh well, it was not to be.

We boarded the ship into onto the gun-deck, one layer down. This is where all the big guns were used, and the sounds and turmoil must have been horrific. Each visitor is given a personal audio guide, the best we have encountered on any tour. At each station, you simply point the device at the station, wait for the beep, then hold the device to your ear. This means that you are in charge of the timing of the audio. It was a mixture of factual information and a re-enactment of the events leading up to and during the Battle of Trafalgar. As we moved through the vessel, up onto the main deck, into captain Hardy’s day cabin and down into the very depths of the huge ship, we really felt as though we could understand what life was like for the 800 crew who manned the vessel. Some of the facts presented were amazing. All of the many glazed stern windows were removed prior to joining battle to prevent flying glass shards. It took 200 men 2 hours to raise the anchors. The giant capstans were below decks and the enormous anchor ropes (cables) ran the length of the gun-deck.

It was particularly moving to stand in the spot on the quarter-deck where Nelson was shot. The audio gave an emotional description of how he was carried below to the surgeon, his faced covered on his instructions so that the crew did not know he had fallen. It took Nelson another four hours to die, his spine shattered by the musket ball.

From the Victory, we had a cup of tea in the boat shed, home to many craft in the throws of restoration, then moved on to the Warrior. It was amazing to see the progress made in naval ships in the hundred years between Victory and Warrior. The latter is twice the length of Victory, although only slightly beamier. The most startling thing was the head height below decks. No more stooping to walk, or banging heads on overhead beams. The warrior was spacious, including the accommodation for crew. With a combination of steam and power, she could manage 17 knots, a very fast rate in those days. Although carrying fewer guns than Victory, she had far greater fire power, with 10 of her guns being modern explosive shell firing type, rather than a solid iron ball. Warrior was built to counter the French build up of naval power, but never actually saw any action, serving during one of Britain’s more peaceful times.

Unlike Victory, warrior is still afloat, her steel hull being impervious to the marine worm that was Victory’s undoing. I climbed down to the depths of the engine room, to inspect the massive twin steam engines, looking remarkably well preserved. The whole ship looks in great shape, as though she could set sail tomorrow. It certainly presents an imposing sight overlooking Portsmouth Gun Quay.

All shipped out for the day, we made our way back to the little seafood stall on the quay that sold collections of unusual stuff. The man was just putting up a sign saying he was out of whelks and octopus, but we ordered a mixture of what ever else he had. Well, it was certainly different. Served cold with some chunks of tiger bread, the bread was the star of the day. The jellied eel was the next best, but the rest of the fare was very ordinary indeed. Still, we had to try.

Back in the car, we made our way back to Salisbury, mostly on the M27 motorway. By the time we got there, it was 3:30, so we figured it was best to return the car rather than find somewhere to park and then have to watch the time. We had booked 6:40 train tickets back to Dilton Marsh so we had 3 hours to explore Salisbury.

From the U-Drive, we walked towards the spire of the cathedral, visible anywhere in Salisbury. It marked the start of one of our GPS Walks on the phone so we followed a marked route for a while, reading about the various features we encountered. The cathedral was one surrounded by a fortress wall, and the enclosed area and various gates are quite marvellous. The cloisters too are very beautiful. We spent a while just sitting in the grounds, along with a good crowd of people picnicking or soaking up sun.

The city centre is a delight, full of medieval buildings and quaint shops or square. The Avon River (a different one to Bath Avon) splits into three arms as it makes its way through the town, so there are lots of pretty little stone bridges. We stopped on one to watch a guy peeling bits of bread from his roll and dropping them into the water, a huge trout appeared from nowhere to engulf the bread. The water was crystal clear and flowing fast, but it was pretty much impossible to see the fish until the bread hit.

We walked on to wards the station and found a small pub aptly called the railway Tavern nearby, deciding to spend some wait time having a beer.  It was one of those places where everyone knew everyone (except us of course) and every word seemed to start with F. Still, the beer was cheap and the surroundings comfortable.

When we got to the train station, we asked about getting off at Dilton Marsh, because it is not a regular stop. We were told to advise the conductor, and to tell him before getting on the train. The train pulled in and we searched in vain for the conductor. It was only two carriages so I fifured he would be easy to find and climbed aboard, turned around, and Christine had vanished. I got off again, and saw her up the platform and called to her. I got back on, turned around again to find her sprawled on the deck. In her haste, she had tripped. The rail staff rushed over, most concerned and we got her up, bruised and scraped, but still mobile. It was a close call. As the conductor was checking our tickets, he noted that we needed Dilton Marsh, so we felt safe from the horros of the train charging through our stop.

When we did get off, we were joined by about ten others anyway, so we need not have worried. We often overthink things.

21 May – Westbury – Our last day in County Wiltshire. We actually did little, other than a long walk into town to the Aldi store. Christine has finished her Vegemite. Web sites say that Vegemite is available in most big supermarkets in England, but we have tended to be near smaller Tescos, Aldis or the like. Aldi did have a Marmite clone, that she decided to try, declaring it not as nice, but tolerable. I actually thought it was better than Vegemite, although I wouldn’t tell Ash Barty that.

Tomorrow, it is off to Cardiff.