First off, this isn’t your grimy commuter train. This is a Great Western Railway steam engine, all brass and coal dust, hissing like a grumpy dragon. Inside the carriages, you get proper seats—not the plastic kind that make your bum numb before Reading. You’ll find plush velvet and wood paneling, so posh you half expect Sherlock Holmes to pop out and ask for a mulled wine.
And here’s the surprising fact: each journey burns about a ton of coal. That’s the equivalent of heating 100 student flats for a day, but instead, it just makes you feel wildly romantic about pollution. Don’t worry—the 1880s called, and they said it’s fine.
The Bath Christmas Market: Where Every Stall is a Tiny, Tempting Trap
You pull into Bath, and the market hits you like a gingerbread freight train. There are over 150 wooden chalets, each selling things you never knew you needed. “Artisanal cheese? Yes. Hand-carved gnomes? Absolutely. A scarf made from the wool of a sheep that only ate organic daisies? Take my money.” The air smells of roasted nuts, mulled cider, and that specific “old English” scent of damp stone and history.
Pro tip: wear comfortable shoes and a stretchy waistband. The market is nestled around the Bath Abbey and the Roman Baths, meaning you’ll walk approximately 47 miles while pretending to admire a £15 candle. You’ll buy at least one “emergency” mince pie before noon. It’s the law.
