Nosferatu with a camera phone.
The streets of Bath are paved with Welsh sandstone - or they were, before the council allowed criminals to rip them up and sell them for a profit.
Now they are protected (yeah, right) but have been misplaced to produce cryptic marks like the ones below (taken about 15 minutes ago, on my way home). All will be revealed...
This is an iron-rich, sea-urchin fossil from 180,000,000 years ago. It ended up as a Bath street-urchin in the 19th century.
I really don't know what these scratches are, but they look like a cave-drawing to me.
The downfall from a Victorian drainpipe, uplifted and transported to another, irrelevant place.
And - in the time of Sherlock Holmes - Electric Light came to Bath. This flagstone marks the place where the cables lay below.
I'm hoping to impress the Hattatts with my very expensive shoes.
ReplyDeleteI was going to say....very nice shoes! Also very intersting post. xxxxx
ReplyDeleteHello,
ReplyDeleteVery nice shoes! and also a very interesting post.
Have a nice evening
Jérôme
Thank you Tracey. I like the way you pronounce 'intersting' - just like George W Bush - my hero: "Mah fellow Mercans... Tersts..." etc.
ReplyDeleteHello Jerome - thanks for your comment. Please excuse the lack of squiggles for your name, but my squiggle machine has broken over the weekend.
Fascinating stones, if you can read them, you read into the history of Bath.
ReplyDeleteI found your comment to the Hattats totally delightful and decided I must come and look who this TS is. What I noticed before I even noticed the stones were your shoes. Impress the Hatttats? With brown shoes in town? Expensive no doubt, but brown, dear Stephen?
You must be of Hippy stock, Freako - "Brown shoes don't make it" eh?
ReplyDeleteWell, here in Bath, we have one foot in the country and the other in town, so we are allowed to wear brown shoes, just so long as they aren't suede, and just so long as they cost over £300.
Each.
ReplyDeleteAnd they are not brown, but a shade of pale chestnut like mine are.
ReplyDeleteAnd not worn with a dinner suit.
ReplyDeleteOr shorts.
ReplyDeleteLove those shots! And the shoes are cool too. I guess I needed to add that.
ReplyDeletem.
Thanks Mark. I need some support from a neutral person right now, and you stepped in just at the right time.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, this shoe thing is getting out of control. I am obviously too hung up on material displays of refinement, but it would mean so much to me if the Hattatts would only say that they actually like my shoes, but I fear the profound silence indicates the opposite.
Maybe they are on a rare night out in Budapest? Maybe they don't comment on the Sabbath? Maybe they are still searching for Thai crystals all over Eastern Europe? Oh well, I'm off to bed - I have a nightmare tomorrow morning - scaffolding is going up front and back on our compact but adorable city apartment, and I fear for the nesting gulls.
Anyway, they're boots, not shoes.
ReplyDeleteAnd I've got two pairs.
ReplyDeleteCrockett and Jones 'Coniston' boots, to be precise.
ReplyDeleteAny flip flops?
ReplyDeleteYour boots make you look very tall Tom, but are you sure they are made for walkin'?
ReplyDeleteIs 'Victorian Drainpipe' a euphemism for 'bed pan'?
ReplyDeleteI immediately noticed the shoes as well. (Not that the pavement isn't interesting!) Are they Chelsea boots? I was going to complement you on these fine walkers, but I don't know if my compliment would count. We are now all waiting for the Hattatts. Aren't they in the porn industry?
ReplyDeleteWhat do you call a Frenchman who wears them, Tracey? Philippe Follop.
ReplyDeleteYes, Donna - they're town and country, but without the thick treads.
That refers to my trousers, Cro.
They deny it, Iris, but I have my doubts.