Pigs, Partridges and Prickles

It is Friday morning, there is a promising patch of blue sky outside and Eddy has gone to work at the Cornish Bakehouse (a pasty shop) in the centre of town. He has been working there for a week now. He gets half price pasties for lunch which would be a danger with anybody else's metabolism. I suggested to him that maybe he shouldn't have a pasty everday so he tells me he's been breaking it up with sausage rolls! I mostly work nights at Say Pasta so we sometimes pass like ships in the night as he comes home and I head out. Luckily for Eddy, we have a new flat mate, Tom, and I think he's enjoying having some one to talk to in the evenings.

Bath, this summer, along with the usual tourist hordes, has been having some more unusual visitors. Scattered around the city are 100 brightly painted pigs. It harks back to the pre-Roman legend of the founding of Bath by King Bladud. As a young man, Bladud contracted leprosy and was exiled and imprisoned by his family. He escaped his captives and took on the disguise of a swineherd. One day, he found the pigs rolling in a patch of mud and had to lure them out with acorns. When they came out, he noticed that many of their skin complaints had disappeared, and that the mud was warm. He went into the mud himself, and as the legend tells us, was cured of his leprosy. He returned home to become King of the Britons and reputedly built a temple on the site of the hot springs, the first of many settlements on Bath's current site. Incidentally, he is also remembered as the father of King Lear. Bath's current pig population commemorates this story and all the pigs are going to be auctioned to raise money for charity in a few months. Here is a selection of some of my favourites:



I've been filling in the days with some long walks around the area. I've seen mole hills, beaver sets, partridges (which don't like flying so just run along in front of you), and unfortunately, more than my fair share of stinging nettle and thistles. We have a map which shows the public right of ways, or footpaths, through people's fields. Unfortunately it doesn't give any indication of what condition they're in. Most are fantastic, but yesterday I got caught in a patch of shoulder height prickles and had to unpick myself with every step. It led to the most beautiful field of daisies that I've seen so, despite the scratches, was well worth the effort. Scattered through the countryside around here are skeletons from the age of industry- partly built canals and abandoned railways, stone walls in the middle of nowhere and disused bridges. You never know what you're about to stumble on. Yesterday, during a brief period of disorientation (I had wandered off the edge of the map) I came upon a Michelin-rated pub so stopped and had a coffee while I worked out where I was. Here are some photos from my walks around Southstoke and Combe Hay.



Lots of love to everyone,
Susie xox