7 minute read
Sweet waters
WORDS: SHARON STEPHENSON
Heritage is the goose that lays the golden egg of tourism income in the English city of Bath, so its careful management is key to visitors enjoying its healing waters for centuries to come
One of the finest historic sites in Northern Europe is the well-preserved Roman Baths, containing possibly the greatest religious spa of the ancient world. IMAGE: KAREN ASTWOOD It sounds like the beginning of a joke: what do a herd of pigs, a prince and a bad case of leprosy have in common?
Quite a lot, it turns out, if you’re the English city of Bath – and it’s no laughing matter. Roll the clock back to 836BC when Prince Bladud, father of the unfortunate King Lear, contracted leprosy while studying in Athens. Bladud, so the story goes, was subsequently banned from the Court of England and forced to take a job as a swineherd.
He was in good company because the pigs in his care also suffered from a terrible skin disease. But one day, while crossing the River Avon, the pigs wallowed in the hot and mucky water and were cured. So Bladud did the same and was also cured. Naturally, he went on to be king and, in gratitude, founded the city of Bath on the site of the mineral-rich waters.
It wasn’t until 43AD, when the Romans gatecrashed the party and discovered that water bubbling out of the ground was just the thing to cure their ailments and ease aching muscles, that Bath’s currency as a spa destination really gained traction: cue a programme of draining the surrounding marshland and channelling the waters into a series of baths that the toga-wearers named Aqua Sulis, after the Celtic sun goddess Sulis.
More than 3000 years later, we arrive in England’s most perfectly preserved Georgian city on a spring day when the sun seems to have forgotten to shine. With so much history and architecture crammed into such a compact space, it’s no surprise that Bath is like catnip for visitors. Around five million people a year come to gaze at its sights, and Caroline Kay, Chief Executive of the Bath Preservation Trust, says that balancing the needs of heritage buildings and tourists can be an issue.
“The number of people visiting Bath is a challenge, particularly in terms of transport and street cleanliness,” she says. “Bath’s tourism strategy is to attempt to increase the quality (and duration) of stays while reducing, or at least not seeking to increase, the number of day visitors.”
1
2
It helps that much of Bath’s heritage is protected by law. “Around 60 percent of the city is a Conservation Area, a statutory designation requiring care about how change takes place. The whole city is a World Heritage Site, and therefore the criteria that make the city of Outstanding Universal Value have to be protected. Around 5000 properties in Bath are also listed, placing obligations on the owners to care for them and seek special permission for making changes.”
The crown in the city’s heritage jewel, the Roman Baths, is run as a profit centre by the Bath & North East Somerset Council, with the profits going into general council expenditure, including looking after aspects of the heritage and historic environment.
“Our heritage has also been well preserved because of the activities of independent charitable organisations such as the Bath Preservation Trust,” says Caroline. “Since 1934 the trust has been involved in the direct restoration of particular historic assets, as well as campaigning for saving certain aspects of the heritage. This has prevented the worst excesses of post-war redevelopment from damaging Bath too much.”
New Zealand might be a heritage minnow compared with Bath, but Caroline believes that a local and national planning policy that supports the protection of heritage buildings is also relevant here. “It’s key that there’s strategic management of both the tourism offer and the way in which tourists are managed once they are on site, which isn’t always easy. It helps to have good communication between all parties so that there’s an appreciation of each other’s concerns and needs. In Bath, at least, the heritage is the goose that lays the golden egg of tourism income, so it makes sense to ensure that the one does not damage the other.”
After foolishly tangling with peak-hour traffic on the A4 motorway, we arrive in the only entire English city to receive UNESCO World Heritage Site status, desperate for a soak in Bath’s healing waters. Luckily our guide, Maeve Hamilton-Hercod, tells us that the water gurgles out at a rate of 1.3 million litres a day, so it’s been changed a few times since the Romans wallowed in it.
The Thermae Bath Spa is one of three sites in the city in which the famous water rises to the surface. The jury’s out on which is better: the 45°C water in the rooftop pool or the panoramic views over the city and adjacent abbey, which you can almost reach out and touch.
Ironically there were no public baths in Bath for more than three decades. But in 2006, amid major budget and deadline blowouts, noted British architect Sir Nicholas Grimshaw waved an NZ$80 million restoration wand over the 18th-century building. Since then, an average of 260,000 visitors a year have come to see what all the fuss is about.
To see where this whole bathing business started, however, it’s necessary to head to the Roman Baths. Here it’s easy to image what life was like for the revolving cast of characters – Romans, Celts and Saxons – who frequented this maze of bath houses. At the heart of the complex is the Great Bath, a large, leadlined pool
1 The Palladian-style Pulteney
Bridge, which dates from 1774, flings itself across the
River Avon and is exceptional because it features shops on both sides.
IMAGE: ISTOCKPHOTO.COM
2 Bath Abbey, one of the largest examples of Perpendicular
Gothic architecture in the West
Country, as viewed through the
Palladian Arch in York Street.
IMAGE: ISTOCKPHOTO.COM
3 A defining feature of Bath, the
Royal Crescent’s 30 terraced houses are some of the finest examples of Georgian architecture to be found in the UK.
IMAGE: ISTOCKPHOTO.COM
4 Architecture lovers are spoiled in historic Bath, where there are fine examples of buildings chiselled out of Bath stone at every turn.
IMAGE: KAREN ASTWOOD 3
whose green water doesn’t look particularly inviting; thankfully it’s off limits to modern-day bathers.
We admire the series of ancient steam rooms, gendersegregated baths, and even some of the original Roman plumbing and central heating systems. Particularly fascinating are the displays, which demonstrate how the Romans used the springs not only to cure their leprosy and other ills, but also as a centre for worship, to conduct business and, rather less wholesomely, to sacrifice small animals. One of the best bits is the audio guide, narrated by best-selling author Bill Bryson, which really brings the complex to life.
Bath is a city that appears preserved in time, from the enormous abbey that looms over the city, the last great medieval church built in England, to possibly the most gracious stretch of road in the world, the Royal Crescent. This iconic half-moon is what most often springs to mind when people think of Bath. The 30 Georgian houses, hewn out of honey-coloured Bath stone, are particularly striking because of their near-perfect symmetry and the distinctive Ionic columns topped by scroll-shaped ornaments.
Designed by architect John Wood and his son to underscore the prestige and wealth of their owners, the elegant townhouses are still privately owned, except for No 1 Royal Crescent, now a museum, which was gifted to the city by shipping magnate Major Bernard Cayzer and sympathetically restored using only 18th-century materials. Among the rooms on display are the drawing room, several bedrooms and a huge basement kitchen that looks much as it would have back in the day.
You can’t come to Bath and not cross the famous bridge that flings itself across the rushing waters of Pulteney Weir. Built in 1773 and now Grade I listed, Pulteney Bridge is one of only four in the world with shops spanning both sides (another is Florence’s Ponte Vecchio, which is believed to have inspired Pulteney Bridge).
We’ve just got time to pop up the hill to the Jane Austen Centre, a museum celebrating one of Bath’s most famous residents. Although the author only lived in the city for five years (between 1801 and 1806), she set two of her novels here and this museum houses a small but perfectly curated selection of memorabilia relating to her life in Bath. The adjacent Regency tearoom, which serves crumpets and cream teas, isn’t bad either. Austen, and even Prince Bladud, would no doubt have approved.
4
