More pictures, ever...

I'll explain the title in a moment. Er, I hope I will-- right now I've got 25 minutes remaining on a library computer in Winchester. Where, by the way, I decided not to bring my laptop and then saw a Caffe Nero in the first five minutes. Great, Joey. Clever girl.

I didn't go to Royal Victoria Park. Instead, I set off immediately for Beechen Cliff, the hills I mentioned. It was a tough walk-- it really is a cliff, so the road coming up to it were quite steep-- but the view at the end was worth it. There is a little park on top of Beechen Cliff, with a view out over all of Bath. It was raining lightly, and I read the part of Northanger Abbey where Catherine Morland and the Tilneys go up there. It was a little bizarre. I really wish I'd had my camera charged, because the views were breathtaking-- all of that yellow Bath stone and the green hills and the overcast skies. Afterwards, I went back down the hill and had dinner at an Italian restaurant to celebrate my last night in Bath, and then I went back to the bed and breakfast. I woke up at 6:00 am the next morning to pack, and ended up being so early for everything that I caught a train an hour and a half before the one I expected to take.

It was cold, by the way, both raining and snowing, and I took four trains to get to Alton. At one point I had to walk between train stations in the snow-- brr. Once I was in Alton, I caught a cab and directed the driver to "the Jane Austen house," which he dropped me off at. I was a little confused, because in my e-mail to Chawton, I was told to head up the long drive through the gates. This did not have a long drive or gates. The house is a little cottage. It wasn't until my guide in the house (who misunderstood me and rather deferentially called me an "American journalist") had given me a brief history of William the Conquerer and explained the background behind Chawton that I was made to realize that Jane Austen did not live in Chawton House, but in this cottage. I was supposed to be at Chawton-- that was where I had made my reservation-- I was in the wrong place! It was good, then, that I was early. I asked the guide if Chawton is open on weekends (although I know that it isn't) and said that I should probably go there immediately.

"You have to call ahead," he said.

"I think they might be expecting me," I replied.

"No, you can't just walk in there."

I didn't want to hurt his feelings and say that I hadn't meant to come to the Jane Austen House at all, so I let him call ahead. Luckily-- sort of-- he got the librarian I hadn't talked to, and she said I could come up. I walked the ten minute path to Chawton House, a rather beautiful and scary Elizabethan/Jacobian mansion. As I came up the front walk, I felt very much as if I were in Northanger Abbey. I rang the buzzer on the gate and stated my name, and I was buzzed in. I rang another buzzer on the front walk. Okay, 14 minutes left. I might not make it to the bed and breakfast stuff, so I'll say now that my hosts figured out that any AA batteries could go in the camera, and my camera is now working. So I'll have pictures to post once I have internet access from my laptop. I think I must have burnt out the fuse in the little charger thing, though, so I'll have to fix that-- when I'm in the United States. Anyway, after some confusion, I was shown through Chawton House, which is sort of a mix of every building style since it was built, hundreds and hundreds of years ago. I saw the little alcove where Jane Austen might have sat to write, I saw the lawns, I saw the original painting of Chawton which is really famous (if you see a painting of Chawton, it's probably that one), the kitchen (complete with wine corker and coffee grinder), the Great Hall, the libraries (7000 titles on and by women writers, including Udolpho by Ann Radcliffe), stained glass windows and portraits of the Knight family, and more. It was wonderful, and the guide knew a lot.

After that, I walked down to the church on the property, and looked at the graves of Jane Austen's mother and sister, Cassandra. That was sobering. Rather morbidly, my next stop was at a cafe across the street from the Jane Austen House, called Cassandra's Cup. I don't know-- naming your restaurant after the long-dead sister of Jane Austen famous only for being the sister of Jane Austen seems a little off to me. I shared a table with two elderly women since the restaurant was tight for space. Then I went back to the Jane Austen House (really necessary because they were storing my luggage). As a museum, it's not great-- a lot of the explanations and information there was kind of facile. However, the stuff they have is incredible. A writing table of Jane Austen's, her jewels, letters (including one to Cassandra after the publication of Pride and Prejudice), inscribed books to her nieces, tableware she mentioned in her letters, a mirror-- all sorts of things. And I got to go into her bedroom. Pretty strange...

I walked back to Alton from Chawton, which was sort of an unpleasant thing to do. I had to walk along the freeway, in the mud. Worse yet, I didn't know anything about my bed and breakfast other than its name, Plum Cottage. So I spent some time wandering around Alton-- the armpit of the UK-- looking for an internet cafe. Finally went to the library there and found out the address of my bed and breakfast, had pizza for dinner, and caught a cab to Plum Cottage. I'm glad I went, because the people are nice, it's beautiful, and it's quiet.

And now I really have to go. Only three minutes left! But I'll be in Oxford on Monday (THANK GOD) and I'll update then.