The Hindu Business Line : Precious stones!

It’s a quintessential British drizzle that greets us while we wait at London’s Victoria Station to board the bus that will take us 90 km into the open Wiltshire countryside where the most enigmatic stone circle stands. As we whiz along the A30, the sun’s rays filter through to reveal the verdant green of the sweeping plains and rolling meadows. David, our guide, is ecstatic; he’d looked forward to a clear day for us. And so, just as the gates are about to open we are at the legendary Stonehenge.

At first glance I am transported to Asterix’s Gaul with Obelisk and his menhirs, the immense rough-hewn stones, that he handles with such ease. But unless, like him, these late Neolithics took a swig from some magic potion, I wondered how these stones were hauled from where they were — the Preseli mountains, in south-west Wales over 386 km away. I was not alone in this conjecture. David said that transportation of these stones has often been attributed to the wizardy of Merlin.

But we have to concede to human ingenuity. And the folks then were obviously very resourceful. Using boats and leather ropes and sledges for over a century they put the gigantic stones exactly where they wanted them to.

This was around 2150 BC. Later in 2000 BC, more and even heavier stones were brought here from the nearerby Marlborough Downs about 40 km away. With the largest of these stones being 50 tonnes it would have been no mean feat to move them. It is believed that at least 600 brawny men were needed to place a single stone in position. Finally in 1500 BC, the stones were shuffled around in the position we see them today.

But what were they all about? And why here? Obviously it was all of enough significance for so much time and effort expended over centuries. We now know that Stonehenge was an important ritual site back in 3100 BC. The stones were not there then, but there was a ditch and several circular pits which excavations revealed to have human bones.

Mysterious circle

Today of course, it is the gigantic, brooding stones placed in a mysterious circular formation that overawe us. With their orientation towards midsummer sunrise, was this a temple to the sun? Was it an astronomical observatory that helped calculate the movements of celestial bodies, and thereby their effects on earth? Or was it simply a power structure that defined the might of local chiefs. Whatever it was, it was held sacred. And it retains its mystical aura.

As I walk towards the trilithon, two immense vertical stones supporting a third horizontally across the top, I am overwhelmed by their sheer size. And something akin to trepidation and admiration courses through my being as I sit at the far-end gazing at the entire formation that seems to rise as if from under the ground.

Ancient Spa

Over aeons the town has been known for its thermal springs. The early Celts revered them enough to dedicate them to Sulis, the goddess of these healing waters.

And the Romans continued the tradition of associating the goddess with their own Minerva and dedicating the temple they built to her. The mineral waters were used through the middle ages till the revival of the spa culture in the 18th century, which also saw the creation of the gorgeous Georgian buildings of Bath. On the river Avon, surrounded by low hills, its strikingly exquisite architecture melding into the low hills that surround it, Bath is beautiful. It’s a perfect day, and we spend a bit of time outdoors, walking the bridge lined with shops loaded with bric-a-brac.

It’s from Grand Parade, standing by the balustrade, that we actually get to view it and the horseshoe-shaped weir, the cascade shimmering in the sunlight. Across the cobbled pavement and we are at the Roman Baths. Restored from obscurity, it’s a regal structure with its statues and columns, its mellow warm hues so very Mediterranean, yet complementing the surrounding — very British designs. Images of toga-clad legionaries come to mind as I roam the excavated chambers, and gaze at the bronze head of Minerva with her olive wreath.

The ancient plumbing of the baths works even today. From the museum with its interesting collection of coins, paterae, containers for holy water and engraved messages on pewter sheets and host of other artefacts, I take a quick peek at the Pump Room. While three centuries ago it was a meeting place for those recuperating here, it’s a classy salon today where one can stop by for tea or even a sip of water from the springs.

The bath bun

But I give both a miss and head instead for Sally Lunn’s. Believed to be the oldest house (15th century) it also dishes out the famed native tidbit — the Bath bun, a rich concoction of flour mixed with egg and butter loaded with sugar. With a cup of Earl Grey, it’s just what I need. Revived, it’s down to the cellar to see the original kitchen and then out towards the Abbey. It’s a masterpiece in stone, Gothic architecture at its most ornate with its flying buttresses, decorative pinnacles and the interior with its incredible fan vaulting and astounding stained glass windows.

Leaving Bath without visiting the Jane Austen Centre would be short of sacrilegious, so I’m off to Gay Street to get a first-hand picture of her life and times. Then up the stairs to the Regency Tea Rooms for a refreshing pot of Jane Austen Blend and Fanny’s Favourite- crumpets with clotted cream and honey.

A wonderful finale to an amazing trip.