Bath, June 8

    The pleasure of driving, more accurately being driven, to JFK in abundant traffic was only enhanced by that fire-smog blowing down from Canada.  Kind of scary, and amazing that flights seemed not to have been affected by the poor visibility.  But they weren't.  Flight to Heathrow and trains to and from Paddington:

                                        

 departed and arrived on time, and I slept on the plane.  What more can one ask?  

I am ensconced in a most pleasant Air B and B, a cottage, if you will, which is part of a house in which Gainsborough once resided for a time, would you believe!  It is full of light, looks out over lush gardens:

and is located in a quiet area up up up a hill.  Bath has lots of hills.

After laying in basic supplies and doing a reorg, I went in search of modest adventure since a state of fogginess and a rare headache prevented anything too grand.  I was disappointed that the Museum of Fashion was temporarily closed, though I had known that, but so was the Museum of Asian Art, which I had not expected.  None the less, I saw some art anyway:

                                   

                                        

It seems that the theme of the day is Dogs.

Passing by a a museum of I am not sure what, maybe Bath in the Georgian Age, I could not resist a peek for £15 (so not worth it) where one saw, inter alia, not convincing replicas of a kitchen

And dining room set for breakfast:

The "guide" consisted of recordings, played at regular intervals, whose content was maybe meant to mimic Jane Austin—who, in fact, was a resident of Bath—only they fell short by a mile.  More memorable than the displays was the hyperbolically jolly young woman who collected the fee.  She literally jumped with excitement and screeched in delight, even doing a little dance, at the entry of every new visitor.  After a bit more of a wander, it was time enjoy a magnum (as in ice cream) and trudge up the hill again in anticipation of total collapse.