|Not Built in the 19th Century|
It's tourist season. This means several things for me. First, I should know better than moving to places that are tourist attractions. Second, no matter how much I may now look Englishy, my accent gives me away as someone who must be looking for my tour bus. Third, I am reminded that I know bus routes and times in BANES and the surrounding area off by heart. Fourth, that locals will lie to tourists for the fun of it. And most importantly that I cannot possibly want anything other than a 98p stamp.
Throughout most of the year, I can order cider without being told it isn't apple juice, ask for the very last bus stop in the outermost zone without being told that surely I mean to go on to the next town, and purchase signed-for postage (registered mail) at the post office. But between May and the middle of August, I become by accent alone, incapable of navigating my life in Bath. And while I am grateful to the English and longstayers among Bathonians for their kindnesses to my countrymen, there are days when I need a pint of cider (hard cider) to overcome my frustration at having to repeat those fine words. No really, I live here. I need to know that those documents reached there.
If by some chance, you were in the tour group above, I feel I must tell you that your tour guide was misinformed. The Abbey wasn't built in the 19th century and Lucifer is on the left, not the right.
And as it is Sunday and the End of the Month, you should trot on over to visit Laura and link up to the Post of the Month Club. Go on, click the link.