Saturday
The day had a slow start, with me helping my Dad with his computer. It looks like he's found a bug in some commercially available software! Who'd have thunk it? Actually the amazing thing was that it wasn't in a Microsoft product.

Late afternoon I went back to downtown Bath, and sought out somewhere to get a coffee that had Internet access. I was in the middle of writing the previous post about Friday, and fancied the buzz of a coffee house, instead of the slightly more sedate atmosphere of my parents' house.

Coffee Republic has Internet access, but the place was packed (despite being somewhat vast as coffee houses in Bath go. You may have seen my Coffee Republic mugs on EID, usually holding a homemade latté.

So I then spent an inordinate amount of time wandering through the damp streets of Bath to where (when I was here last) there had been cyber cafés. Nothing doing. In the end, I visited Doolally's in Walcot St, as my buddy Tim had recommended it.

It had character alright, and cute waitresses in pigtails, but it took the owner so damn long to operate the till (how can it take three goes to enter a single number and then the amount of money tendered?) that by the time he'd finally given me my change, I'd lost the only spare table in the joint to some people who hadn't even been in the building when I'd handed him my money. Eventually, I found a space, and fired up the iBook, to finish my account of Friday's fun.

Actually, there was a bit of games of musical chairs going on as better and better tables opened up. A number of us got chatting, as we moved about, and the atmosphere was all very jovial.

That's something that I've noticed this visit. I've said to friends in Denver that I love the US because you can strike up conversations with strangers and everyone's so friendly (OK so I don't live in NYC). I've always said that it doesn't happen in Britain, and that the British, by and large are a bunch of miseries (friends and families excluded).

I think it might just have been my living in Bath for so long that clouded my judgement. There are some snotty-nosed people in Bath. Actually they tend to be the yuppie element that have moved from London in an effort to push the house prices up and intimidate the real West Country folk.

Suffice it to say that so far on this trip, I have encountered really friendly and chatty people - which has made it so much more enjoyable a visit (if you've met me, you'll know that I like to talk). Even at the car hire place in Heathrow, the staff and I were chatting away, like old friends.

After a nice latté, and some prolific writing whilst watching the rain outside, I drove to Bristol, where John and I had a Greek dinner (mediocre, with mediocre service) and then went to a favourite pub of his. The two bars in the pub consisted of the main bar (full of students), and the Snug (where the "old gits" sit and drink). Knowing our limitations, we sat in the Snug.

True to its name, it was tiny. We were the only ones there to start with. Throughout the rest of the evening we chatted with everyone who came in. Again, this whole thing about the British not being friendly to strangers was being disproved. Good!

Sadly, I didn't have my camera with me. I really wanted to bring you (particularly American readers) a picture to show you just how small this bar was. I may go back there before I leave and take the camera. That said, it's not a unique bar, there are many such places in the UK.

Sundae Sunday
Another incredibly laid-back day. But given that my fate lies largely in the hands of chaps at the US Embassy, and there's nothing I can do about it, why not kick back and whittle some?

I got an email from Tim, who yesterday flew to Iceland for a holiday. Yes, Iceland in December. He plans on renting and SUV and exploring, sleeping in the vehicle if needed. Yes... in the vehicle... in December... in ICELAND. Still, it's a week off work, I suppose. I really must tell him I do believe he's a hardened northerner, and he doesn't have to keep trying to prove it!

My sister called in, late morning, and, together with her husband and kids, took me over to the other side of town, to the village of Bathampton, where we rendevoused with my parents for lunch at The Old Mill At Bathampton.

Given my childless state, and the fact that I only get to see them once or twice a year, every opportunity is made, when I am there, to get me to look after my two little nieces, aged four and two. Being the soppy old sod I am (beneath that cynical facade), I'm more than happy to play at Uncle. In fact, it's one of the things I look forward to when I visit Bath.

The pub, as with most things in Bath, is ancient. It's also by the riverside. After ordering lunch my nieces, sister and I stepped outside into the bracing English weather to go and feed the ducks. We had brought bread for that very purpose.

I looked out across the fast flowing river, and to paraphrase Admiral Nelson (or was it Napoleon? I never did history past 8th grade), thought, "I see no ducks". My sister threw some bread out towards the water - a hard task when throwing into the wind.

As if from nowhere, or perhaps from a gap in the space-time continuum between dimensions, a number of ducks arrived, and gobbled up the bread. We threw more bread, more ducks arrived, then, yet more ducks. Eventually, when it was starting to look like an aquatic remake of a certain Hitchcock film, with the ducks getting more and more bold in their approach, we stopped throwing bread and took some pictures. and watched the main group of ducks arguing - presumably about who was taking care of the bill! (Geddit? Bill... ducks...? I'm so sorry... I couldn't resist.)

Lunch was nice, not stunning, but nice enough. The service was friendly too.

After a bit of a respite at my folks' house, I went to my sisters, to spend some quality time with her and her family. We had a great time. When I was my nieces' bedtime, I was put in charge of supervising them both cleaning their teeth. If you're familiar with the phrase, "It's like herding cats", then you'll know how well I did that job.

Every time I go to my sister's, they end up introducing me to a UK TV show that I've missed out on, living in the US. They're always good choices of programme.

Last time it was Trigger Happy TV, which we now have in the US. This time, it was the sit-com Spaced. I now have their video of the entire first series to work through whilst I'm here. I'm half-expecting either BBC America or Comedy Central to buy the rights to show Spaced in the US. It's prime Comedy Central material.

OK. That's my weekend. In case you're wondering, yes I do have pictures of me and the kids, and the ducks, but I'll not subject the entire readership to them. Ask if you want to see.