Suburbia

The Roman and Thermae Baths are vital structures in our quest. But to get to the heart of our story, we needed to look for clues across the the city of Bath.

So we took a long, rambling walk around the suburbs of Bath. Starting in Larkhill, we marched through Weston, along Upper Bristol Road until we crossed the river into Twerton, and onto Oldfield Park.  Check out our map. That’s some serious surburban walking. We took hiking shoes, and large bottles of water.

At first the houses were similar to any suburbs in the South West of the country. But then our brains tuned into the landscape. So many local businesses reference Sulis Minerva. They often split the name in two, and whack their business after. Sulis Plumbing. Minerva Scaffolding. 

Then we have the symbols. The ‘Gorgon’ face from the Bath on the side of vans. A helmet and sphere to reference good maintenance. Owls on glaziers.  I know these are location specific marketing tactics, but if you are looking for signs of the goddess, they are everywhere. 

We peep into their gardens. Nothing creepy, just glances. We found an astonishing amount of water features. Fountains, ponds, a dish for the birds. The ratio is about one in three. There are plenty of owl statues on front lawns. Women’ faces on door knockers.  

The rain rolled in  halfway through hour three. We trucked on through the downpour, hoods over our heads. Another row of suburban houses greeted us. One had a fountain out front, owls sitting around the bowl. The curtain twitched, then went still.   The sight of a Gorgon door sign was no longer exciting.  

The bubbling noise started somewhere in Oldfield Park. Like air forced through water, clashing with the constant hiss of the raindrops.  And on a quiet street no different to dozens of others on our journey, someone in a flowing dress crossed the street, and vanished round a corner. White silk and sandals were a poor choice for the downpour, but she had not even covered her hair. 

We bombed down after her, our footsteps in time with the bubbling. Humidity mixed with the smell of pennies. Around the corner was another street of Bath stone houses, the inhabitants presumably sheltering from the rain. If anyone had been there, they were much faster than us. 

The nearby streets contained only cats and someone hurrying past with a pushchair. We reached the shops at Bear Flats, and a bus returned us to the heart of the city.

Our project is about the goddess of the Roman Baths. A walk around suburbia could have been no different than any other town. But people still know about the Romans here. People still reference the gods.

But did we spot the goddess?

Our answer is inconclusive. Residents of Bath are allowed to walk in the rain. However, we have now experienced the thrill of our emailers and interviewees. We’ve come a long way since our first advert. 

The view of Bath on the road to Bear Flats