Straight up now tell me, do you really wanna love me forever? Oh oh oh!

This Halloween has been EPIC. I've had some good Halloweens before - the one with Felicity as Kerry and me as Dubya being a noteworthy mention - but I'm having a blast here!

Last night, I decided to go to the house party, but I didn't have a costume. I felt left out when I got there, so I ran upstairs, threw on some pink exercise shorts, my neon yellow H&M tank top, nerdy white sneakers, and wrist sweat bands. Then I teased my hair up and voila, I was ready to Jazzercise! I think I'm tagged in Facebook as "Richard Simmons," hilarious. Nobody would believe that my hair got that big with just a quick brush and a flip upside down of my head, but sadly, it's true.

After the house party we went out dancing at a club. So. much. fun! It started out with just a few of us UGA at Oxford students, but by the end of the night it was packed. I'm usually pretty awkward at dancing, especially if there aren't many people out on the dance floor. In other words I'm rarely the "starter." But last night, for some reason, I just went for it, and lo and behold, when you're out there having a blast, pretty soon everyone joins you! What was even more amazing was that even if a bunch of native Brits HADN'T joined us, we still would've had a great time.

The club was playing things like Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, and Blink 182. It was like being back at high school, but with people taking themselves less seriously. At one point a Kelly Clarkson metal remix got put on, and people lost their minds! I screamed for the Britney songs, I'm not even ashamed.

I think part of why I felt so liberated was the fact that I wasn't there to hook up. I know it's pretty common for people to feel constrained by having a significant other back home when they're abroad, but for me it's actually freeing. The one man I would want to impress wasn't here, and anyway he wouldn't care if he DID see me dancing like an idiot - so why hold back? I think I burned 800 calories.

Surprisingly, I also drank. Didn't have a drop at the house party, but a free shot came with the entrance to the club. I was going to pass it up, but the other girls said it was a very weak shot. I had it and they were right, I didn't even begin to feel anything the whole night. I think it was just lightly spiked lemonade. Fine with me!

Tonight, I guess we're going to the Keble party. I don't think it'll be as fun as last night. Keble boys are morons, they're jocks who think drinking their weight in vodka should be a nightly occurence, and worse, they think it turns girls on. But it's ok, because I look awesome! I went to Primark and got a load of stuff for just 20 pounds total. I helped Janie get her gypsy stuff, too. Also, there's a chance that we'll go to a karaoke bar at some point. I really hope that happens.

Here are some pics of the get-up.

List of characters we've had at the house:

-Miley Cyrus

-Hannah Montana

-a gypsy

-Wednesday Addams

-Usher

-a penguin
-Virginia Woolf

-a pilot

-a pothead

-an octopus

-several vampires

-a cereal killer (it was cute, she had cereal boxes hanging off her)

-Barbie

-90s girl

-Britney Spears, the early version

-a witch

-a pirate

-Pippi Longstockings

Like I said, epic.

Stir-Crazy

For some reason, I'm at the point where I'm getting a little bit anxious. I don't know why, I think I'm just eager for my next trip (to Madrid) and Jordan's visit. The girls in the house keep watching romantic movies, and I keep stupidly watching with them, and it makes us pitiful and whiny. The discussions go something like this:

"I really wish mine was here, I miss cuddling."
"Me too, I just want to be cute with someone!"
"Every time I walk to town and see people making out, I get angry."
"I know! When does yours get here again? 2 weeks? Oh, that's so far awaaaaaaaaaay!"

A little while ago was "break-up time," a period in which it seemed everyone was letting go of their boyfriends. Now the pendulum has swung and we're a bunch of lonely sob stories. One of my friends is going crazy waiting for her boyfriend to visit. Another whimpers "Say something sweet to me!" whenever she Skypes with hers, and she sounds like she's dying of heartache whenever she says it. The couples who used to gripe when they talked are now in a pattern of sickly-sweet pining. It's madness, I tell you.

Totally unrelated: I got my assigned registration time. November 17th, at 10 p.m. For those keeping track, this is the third year in a row when I've gotten a crappy registration time. Also, that's what, 3 a.m. my time? No way will I be able to stay up. I guess I've got to suck it up and email them begging to give me an earlier time slot. I also have to actually contact my advisors and, oh yeah, figure out my classes! It hasn't even occured to me until now that I need to do this, it totally slipped my mind being here.

Pros and Cons

Upsides to doing mini-trips while you're studying abroad:

1. They're awesome.
2. They're really awesome.
3. Why wouldn't you do them? Those other countries are RIGHT THERE, for Pete's sake, and it takes less than a hundred bucks to get to each of them.

Downsides:
1. Immediately when you get back, your primary emotions are agony that you haven't slept properly in 48 hours, terror at the realization of how much money you spent (sure, the bus was cheap, but what about the hostel, the dinners, the souvenirs, the castle entrance fees?), and above all, panic at the amount of work that you have piled up.

In fact, I wasn't the only one of the Scotland-ites to not shower this morning, because when push comes to shove, sleep and homework take precedence over hygiene.

Overview of Scotland

Ok, so the bus ride to Scotland Wednesday night into Thursday morning was NOT pleasant. 10 hours jammed next to a stranger in an uncomfortable seat is not really my idea of fun, but we grinned and bore it because it was, after all, much cheaper than the train. We were asleep on our feet by Thursday afternoon, but we still managed to see Edinburgh Castle and a little bit of the National Museum of Scotland that day.

We checked into our hostel right away, which was quite close to the castle but a good distance away from the bus station. Then, as I said, we went out and saw some of the sights. We crashed hard at night and didn't go out, but that was good because we had to get up at 6:30 the next morning for the first of our tours. I quickly realized that I had forgotten pajama bottoms, so I had to sleep in jeans.

Friday we went on the Loch Ness Tour. Serena got left behind because when they say 8 o'clock to be on the bus, they mean 8 sharp! We felt bad, but apparently they let her take a different tour that day (to the chapel from The Da Vinci Code). Anyway, we headed off and stopped at a few places here and there to eat and recuperate on our way up to Loch Ness. It was a very winding, hilly drive, and all of us felt ill after awhile.

We did get to stop and see Ben Nevis, the highest peak in the UK, so that was cool. The weather was PERFECT, warm and beautiful.

We got to the Loch, and decided to hop on the boat tour. What do I proceed to do just before the boat tour ends? Drop the camera on the deck. The camera itself is fine, still turns on and takes pictures, but the inner digital alignment is whacked; there's a long jagged line on the viewing screen, to the left of which you can't see anything. To the right of the line is blinding whiteness. And yet, I continued to take pictures with it, and they turned out really well! I feel guilty about ruining another camera (seriously, what is it with me and technology?), but now that I know it still takes pictures I'll just continue to use it.

Friday night, people convinced me to go out on a pub crawl. I was a little bored (since I wasn't drinking, and it got real old real fast watching the older men try to sleaze it up with my friends), but eventually, Janie and I escaped from the loud, drunken crowd, and we ended up having a good time on our own.

Saturday/yesterday, we had our St. Andrews tour. The town greeted us with a veritable hurricane. Sheets of rain, driving wind, rumbling seas - we got completely soaked, head to toe. The wind inverted my umbrella the second I unfolded it. It would've been fun, if it hadn't been such a cold rain. Janie and I grabbed chocolate cake from a Starbucks and huddled away, trying to dry off. I did get to see the cathedral, which is 90% wrecked but still imposing.

On our way back, the driver took us to a fishing village that's a standard part of the tour, and of course the storm was still raging. He jokingly asked if anyone wanted to get out and take pictures on the sea wall, clearly assuming that no one would be crazy enough to do it, but all of the UGA at Oxford students piled out of the van to do it! The adults in the tour were smart enough to stay behind. In the end, only Serena, Janie and I actually climbed the narrow stone steps to the top of the wall. We got a great view of the seas frothing below us...and then we felt the wind push at us and got the hell out of there.

We then had one last dinner at The Elephant House, a coffee shop/restaurant where JK Rowling worked on the first Harry Potter books. It overlooks Edinburgh Castle. Another 10 hour bus ride, and here we are!

One minor problem that did crop up was time management. People said they'd be ready to leave by 9:30 Wednesday night; the bus was at 10, and it takes 20 minutes to walk to the center of town. I was ready at 9:30, but no one else was. Now, I know that I am not the greatest at being ready on time. In fact, I am often late. And yet, I get extremely anxious if people aren't ready for big things like overnight buses. I tried not to be pushy about it, but when 9:45 came around and one of the girls was STILL not ready, well...it was difficult to keep calm. Jordan is way too acquainted with this side of me, I nagged him all up and down Italy and France to get into gear faster. I'm constantly paranoid that I'm going to miss the tour/flight/what have you. We ended up having to pay for a bus to get to the bus, just to make it on time. The kicker is that on the way back, the same girl held us up again! I managed to keep my crankiness in check, but others didn't.

Pictures coming.

Scotland, and Russia

I can't believe that I'm going to Scotland tomorrow. It's mind-boggling. Everything is booked: the hostel, the bus ride, the tours...we're packing a LOT into three days! I'm so excited, my camera is charging right now because I need to take pictures of every single little thing while I'm there. I'm also trying to get a head start on my work so that I don't die of stress when I come back (I have two papers due on Monday).

In other news, I finally went into the Oxford Borders. It's got a reputation as being kind of a low-level, cheapo bookstore compared to Blackwells. There's no doubt after going into it that Blackwells is superior, but then, poor Borders didn't really have a chance; Blackwells is this ancient, wonderful, extensive, creaky bookstore with all the old-fashioned charm of a British scholar peering down at you from behind his monacle, and Borders is a chain store. Still had a good vibe, though. Played very pretty music, and was bright and organized.

Anyway, as I was checking everything out I "happened" onto the History section and found about 10 books I want. Most of them...ok, all of them....were about WWII Paris.

Then I glanced over at the Russian history section and the feeling I got - well, it was almost like running into an ex-boyfriend, the one you're still desperately in love with. It might sound strange, but I've been pining for Russia. Is that weird? I've never been there, but its history is so endlessly fascinating to me.

Without consciously realizing it, I'd wandered over to the language learning section. I didn't buy anything, but I'm very, very tempted to go back and pick up this awesome learn-Russian package that comes with a workbook and 4 CDs. I don't know why it came over me today so swiftly and so certainly, but thinking about it, I realize that I really do need to learn Russian at some point. Russia, so far as I've heard, is not very easy for English-only speakers to navigate. And I really, really want to visit someday.

If there's anything I've taken away from my experience in learning French, it's that I should do a program that emphasizes speaking right from the get-go. My French classes have been focused on writing and reading, and it shows. I'm horribly shy about speaking the language even though I can write 10-page papers in French and by all accounts should be basically fluent by now.

Wow, rereading this post...I'm such a nerd. I'm going to be that specialist historian, the one who tries way too eagerly to tell people about the effect of republican revolution on Western European monarchies, or about the different varieties of radical leftist political structure in the Slavic nations circa 1918. I can tell.

Today's tutorial

There's nothing quite like hearing the words "absolutely brilliant" said about your paper, especially when the person who said them is an Oxford professor. My first tutorial paper was apparently a winner.

It's been a good day.

Scotland!

People were tentatively thinking of going to Scotland this week, and my tutorials end on Tuesday. So totally on a whim, I said "Can I come?" and before I knew it, I had planned and booked the trip with everyone!

I've been spending a LOT of money, and need to cut back, so I found a few ways to shave costs off this adventure. Three of the girls are taking a train to get in Wednesday, so they have the hostel booked for themselves Wednesday through Saturday, to leave Sunday morning. To cut costs, Gloria and I are taking the bus (taking off 50 pounds right there) overnight Wednesday, so we'll get there Thursday morning and not have to pay for the hostel on Wednesday night. We're also leaving Saturday night, to cut off another hostel expense. This also gives us Sunday and Wednesday as extra days to work on papers that the others don't get. Altogether we're probably scrimping 70 pounds.

We've booked one tour for Saturday, a tour of St. Andrews and surrounding fishing villages. Gloria, Tara and I also want to do something more "nature-y," so we're thinking of doing an additional tour on Thursday of Loch Ness and the Highland area. We'll see how that works out.

I'm so excited, Scotland and Wales were the two destinations I really wanted to get to on this trip (already seen a lot of the continent). Serena and Janie and I are going to discuss the Wales trip tomorrow. They're up for trekking on horseback, YES!

Almost forgot!

I went with a bunch of people to the open air market this morning. Marcus even came along - finally out of the swine flu quarantine, yay! There wasn't much of interest at the market, honestly; there were a bunch of food samples, and tons of jewelry. Not really my thing. UNTIL, right before I left, I spotted....



For only £9! I had to scrounge through my wallet to find that in cash, but it was worth it. It's the illustrated version, I'm so excited! Some of the illustrations are in color, and some are in black and white. Here are samples:

Publishing page.

I totally geeked out when I saw it. Some old guy was perusing through the books, and as soon as I saw this I gasped and snatched it right out from underneath him. I think I scared him. I can't wait to bring it home and put it next to the other cool old edition I have.

The first crew practice

Somehow, I've been trucking through my funds despite buying nothing but books and food. I was already a book hoarder, but this trip is making my tendencies infinitely worse. Now, how I'm going to haul all these books back, that's the question...

Anyhoo, I had my first rowing practice yesterday! Megan and Tara went with me and it was a good time overall. The practice tank was waaaay far away, in a part of Oxford I'd never even seen. Greta was supposed to come too, but she was quarantined for possibly having swine flu, poor girl.

Surprisingly, once we got going I was pretty good. The main trouble came from the fact that everything in the practice boat was way too big for me. The coach came over and tried to adjust the straps and such, but when everything was still too large he giggled "You're just too small, aren't you? I mean, your feet are REALLY tiny!" Um, thanks, I guess...?

Next week we practice on the river! Oh, and here's basically what the tank looked like (nicked this off the web):

"If You're Going Through Hell, Keep on Going" - Rodney Atkins

That's what I'm doing, trying to run through hell.

My workload is bearing down on me like a pack of wolves, but all I need to do to escape is get through the next 12 hours - that's it, 12 hours! - and I'll be out free.

I'm sure every college student in the world can empathize with the feeling I have now, where you want to just give up but you keep yourself running on faith and caffeine. You believe that you can still get that A, even though your brain is so fried that not one word you're typing makes any sense to you. It's just that the feeling has been so intensified since coming to Oxford - because the stakes are higher, and the workload is larger.

I can now easily write a well-researched, focused, eloquent paper in 1 day flat. The trouble is that after doing that for so many weeks in a row, my mind is screaming for a break. My mental state is probably comparable right now to Amy Winehouse's - I'm just a hop-skip away from delirium. To convey how tired I am: I watched some clips from The Blair Witch Project to keep me awake, and I'm still falling asleep. In the dark. Alone.

Tomorrow, I'm scheduled to go have tea with people at an upscale restaurant. They serve cake and scones with clotted cream at teatime. Then I'll read some Joyce, and hopefully get to have a real conversation with Jordan (poor boy, I tried to talk to him tonight in my loopy state and wound up impersonating Rose from Titanic in an effort to provoke a game of charades).

Except, oh wait, I have a paper due Monday. Fortunately, my tutorial don reluctantly mentioned that the deadline could be pushed back in light of my schedule. I made it seem as if it didn't matter either way to me, but I should've said something to the effect of "Lady, you're crazy if you think I can turn in a paper on Monday." Either way, she's not getting a single damn paragraph out of me until Tuesday!

Upping the Ante in my Dietary Rules

Want to know what I love about England? Everything is labeled with vegetarianism already taken into account. Everything. I don't have to pick up a package of yogurt and search the list of ingredients to see if it has gelatin in it, it will tell me right on the front! Candy bars, pudding, soup - it's all labeled this way. And at restaurants, if something on the menu SEEMS to be vegetarian but is actually, say, cooked in animal fat, there's a little marker that warns "Not suitable for vegetarians!" Couple this with all the free-range eggs that are the norm here, and I'm one happy camper.

Until, that is, I got asked by a Brit why I eat cheese. As I struggled to explain that I'm a vegetarian, not a vegan, I got informed that cheese is often curdled using calve stomach material!

Of course, I hoped that it was some kind of horrible mistake. I'm a cheese-a-holic; I've eaten enough cheese to sink an ocean liner in the past year alone. But I've been researching, and sure enough, it's true. The silver lining is that not ALL cheese is made with animal rennet (the official name for the cow stomach material). Some of it is made with various types of fungi-produced, genetically engineered, or vegetable rennet.

If I had heard this information several years ago, I might've quietly ignored it and kept on eating any cheese I could get my grubby hands on. When I first became a vegetarian, I made a pact with myself that I would under no circumstances become a vegan. Vegans were too radical for me; I always envisioned them waving "Fur is Murder!" signs and pissing everyone off with their self-righteous attitudes. I managed to convince myself that I had done enough by giving up meat, that there was no need to also confront the truth behind other animal products.

Well, that was enough for me then, but it's not enough for me now. I'm old enough and mature enough that I need to demand more consistency from myself. If I don't know the source, then I don't get to eat things - period. That's the bottom line, and what I should've been doing from the start, but I wasn't strong enough when I was 13 to be that "different." I was too flustered by what everyone else thought of me and my "crazy" animal views to go all the way. I'm ready to take that step now, though.

This means that from now on, I don't get to eat or make foods unless I can be assured that the ingrediants are free-range. If that means no more Nestle Tollhouse cookies, so be it. If that means having to make all my own pancakes instead of going to eat them at a restaurant, then so be it.

It means giving up the Pizza Hut handtossed and Red Robin mozzerella sticks until I know for certain that the cheese used is animal rennet-free.

It means only drinking almond milk if I can't find certified free-range real milk.

It means potentially annoying the hell (even more than I already do) out of people that invite me over for dinner.

I'm a little bit scared, but at the same time, I know I can do it. Slowly but surely, this trip is transforming my diet into something that I'm truly happy with...because actually, making my dietary requirements stricter has caused me to become more experimental in what I eat. I've tried - and enjoyed - a bigger variety of foods on this trip than I ever have before. Today I tried raw pineapple chunks as a snack, and enjoyed them. Yesterday I ate a whole grain egg sandwich plus a spinach salad for lunch. The day before I threw together a stir-fry. I think it's because I'm panicked at the idea of not being able to rely on cheese as the principal force behind my diet anymore!

Academic Workload Intensity: Code Red

I met with my Shakespeare don yesterday. She was lovely, very personable. She sorted our schedule out for us and printed copies. For the first 4 weeks I meet with her on Tuesdays at 10 a.m. This is going to be agonizing for me - we meet at Worcester college, which is about 30 minutes away, and that means I have to get up by 9, preferably closer to 8 so that I can eat breakfast and take a real shower. The last 4 weeks, we meet Wednesdays at 11 a.m. There are two other people in my group that will meet with her each week, which is quite a lot for tutorials; normally it's only 1 or 2 students per don.

Then I met with my Modern Irish Literature don today. I'm the only one in that tutorial. Our weekly meeting time is Mondays at 5 p.m. She was just as nice as my Shakespeare don, but she assigned my first paper for the first class - this Monday, meaning two days from now, and there's a ton of reading I have to do for it. I also have a two papers due tomorrow. Such is life here.

In other news, the Keble Bop is tomorrow night. Hopefully I'll get to go.

Things my Tudor-Stuart History prof has said in response to student answers

"Listen, it doesn't matter what you say, it'll be wrong."

"OH MY GOD, YOU IDIOTS!"

"Maybe one day you'll get it right, and then I can face my maker. Until then I shall battle against this dark world."

"I wish that there was a piranha tank underneath your seats, that way I could pull a lever and send you down whenever you answer so stupidly."

"I'm going to start throwing people off the balcony."

"You're a pullulating mass of ignorance."

"There is a model of Renaissance education called 'teaching by praise.' Of course, I don't believe in it."

He's hysterical. Favorite teacher of all time, possibly. When you answer a question incorrectly he practically faints, he's so ashamed of you. He's the most theatrical little man I've ever come across. He's toughened all of us up, now we're as leather-skinned as regular Oxford students. He could tell us he's going to steal our firstborns and kill them under cover of night for answering a question incorrectly, and it wouldn't faze us. Actually, the entire class chuckles now when he starts yelling, and after he's done he usually smiles too. It's all in good fun.

Underneath it all he's surprisingly sweet, too. He gave us a lecture on not letting British boys take advantage of us, and he set up a little get-together with a few of his Keble students so that we can meet people.

Final Bath Picture Post

One view of the Circus.


...Aaand the other side!


The restaurant we went to for dinner gave us our soda in the old-school bottles.


Ok, so we got stuffed Christmas ornament dolls at the Bath gift shop, and then creepily took pictures of them on the train ride home. On the left is Flavius, who belongs to Janie. On the right is Charles.

Erm, yeah...this is what happens when you're tired and delirious...you force your dolls to make out. Actually, Janie and I decided that they're a legit couple. We're aware that their love is in defiance of the laws of time.

Bath Fashion Museum, Part 3: Fun with Corsets

They had a section where you could try on corsets from different time periods, and faux hoop skirts. Was majorly amusing.


"Am I supposed to be able to breathe?"
"No."
"Oh, well, then it's perfect." - The Prince and Me


Bestowing my blessings upon the meagre peasants.


Looking down at my imaginary Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.


Doing a curtsy.


Striking a royal pose.

Bath Fashion Museum Part 2: Some More Gloves, Women's Bathing Suits and One CRAZY Dress

Detailing on the 400-year-old gloves.


I can't remember when this bathing suit was from. Anyway, I think it's adorable and I would love to have a bathing suit like this!


Insane Georgian dress. Check out this beast, people actually wore that! How could anyone get through a door wearing a dress that wide?

Bath Fashion Museum, a.k.a Things I Wish We Still Wore Today

Absolutely gorgeous dress from 1949.


Women's underwear from 1890s.


First you put on your chemise and drawers, then you put on the corset. Why do I think this is so beautiful?


400-year-old gloves. Made of white doeskin. How crazy is it that I was checking out gloves that were around when William Shakespeare was alive?

Another pair, SUPER intricate.

Bath Part VII

One of the healing wells.


The moment of truth...drinking the bath water! It was warm, thick, and slightly leaden (probably because the original lead linings of the bath are still in place and working, meaning we just drank lead water and are probably going to get cancer now).


Hmmm...appetizing!


The Pump Room is the fancy-schmancy restaurant above the baths, which we didn't get to go to because A) we didn't want to spend the money, and B) we didn't have time.

That's it for now. I'll upload the pictures from the Bath Fashion Museum later.

Bath Part VI

A couple from New Jersey was kind enough to take a picture of us.

Another of the bathing pools. The Great Bath is the biggest, obviously, but it was far from being the only one - there were baths specifically for the sick, and after Hadrian passed a law forbidding naked co-ed bathing, there were separate baths for men and women. (Yes, until Hadrian came along women and men bathed together naked, and even after the law was passed few obeyed it.)


A view of the Great Bath with Bath Abbey in the background. I bought a watercolor painting of this view while I was there.


An alcove where you got a massage, a manicure, a haircut...you name it, they did it. The Romans were a relatively clean people. They were known to bathe daily, and each bath was a ritualistic process that involved oils, cold water submerges and hot steam treatments, and scraping. Women even got their armpit hair plucked, ouch!

Janie told me to pose like I was going to fall in. So, of course, as I'm going for the pose...I start to fall in. This is the real deal, I had to leap awkwardly back to keep from landing face-first into a tub of grody algae water.

Bath Part V

The head of the Minerva statue that was originally inside the temple. She had to be re-gilded 6 times, because the oil lamps in the temple made her sooty, and as the priests rubbed off the soot they also rubbed off the gold. The head was found on Stall Street (a couple of streets away from the complex) in 1727 by a worker putting in a new sewer system. By the way the neck is cut, historians believe she had her head actually chopped off, possibly by Christians or by raiding foreigners.


The little holes at the top edge of her head are believed to be where her helmet was originally fastened.


The Sacred Spring. You can't see it very well in this picture, but it has a hot mist wafting over it and it's constantly bubbling.


Janie and I tried to get a picture of us using the automatic timer function. It turned out all right, I think.

"We're going to drink THIS?!" (Yep, we drank it...pictures coming in a later post...)

Bath Part IV

The Gorgon head that forms the centerpiece of a large pediment. On the bottom right of the piece of stone with the Gorgon, there's a little owl. The owl is the symbol of Minerva (Athena in Greek), the goddess to whom the bath complex was built for. The full name of the complex's dedication is technically Sulis Minerva - Sulis being the name of the ancient Celtic goddess that people had worshipped at the natural spring there before the Romans arrived. A great deal of why the Romans were so successful in spreading their empire laid in how they merged their own gods and traditions with those of local people, a tactic that later Christians would pick up.


What the full pediment probably looked like. The shaded bits are what we have left.


This is part of a tombstone, showing how the person in question died. I'm not going to lie, I laughed, and so did Janie - seriously, who would want their tombstone to show them getting trampled by a horse and kicked in the face by the rider?


A mosaic found in Bath that's pretty typical of a lot of Roman mosaics. The white stone was local, the red was soft brick, and the purple had to be imported. This one dates from the 4th century A.D.

A rabbit getting chased by a hound and hunter.

Bath Part III

Listening intently to the audio guide.


The oldest bit of the baths we have. It's dated to 76 A.D.


A model of what the bath complex would've looked like in its original form. There was originally a roof over the Great Bath, keeping the water clean and pure (unlike the nasty green stuff that there's today), and that thing you see over to the left with the red roof is the temple to Minerva. There was a big statue of her in there, always bathed in godly light by a fire that was tended to by priests. There was an altar too, but that was kept outside in the courtyard.

This is part of how we know that the Greeks and Romans understood that the Earth is round - when they portrayed the planet, as here, they showed it as a sphere.