The moment we stepped off the train at Bath Spa station, the honey-coloured stone of the city seemed to glow in the late July light. My friend Emma and I had been planning this girls' getaway for months — a weekend dedicated to slow mornings, warm mineral waters, and the kind of conversation that only surfaces when you pause the rush of daily life. Bath, with its Roman origins and Georgian elegance, felt like the perfect backdrop for reconnection.
A Soak in the Sky: Thermae Bath Spa
Our first stop was the Thermae Bath Spa, the only place in Britain where you can bathe in naturally warm, mineral-rich waters. We booked the twilight session — from 5 p.m. to 9 p.m. — which meant we could watch the sky shift from blue to lavender while floating in the open-air rooftop pool. The water temperature hovers around 33.5°C, warm enough to relax every muscle after a week of desk work. Steam rose from the surface as we leaned against the edge, looking out over the spires and crescents of the city. No phones, no deadlines — just the sound of water and the occasional shared sigh.
Inside, we moved through the circuit: a warm aroma steam room scented with lavender, an ice room for a quick shock, and a gentle foot bath along a heated stone path. The highlight, though, was the Minerva Bath, a large indoor pool with massage jets that worked out the knots in my shoulders. We spent nearly two hours rotating through the spaces, speaking in whispers, feeling the weight of the week dissolve.
Afternoon Tea at the Pump Room
The next day, we dressed a little more carefully — linen dresses and pearl earrings — for afternoon tea at the Pump Room, just steps from the Roman Baths. The room itself is a Georgian masterpiece: tall windows, a colonnade, and a pianist playing light classical music. We ordered the traditional afternoon tea, which arrived on a three-tier stand: finger sandwiches with smoked salmon and cucumber, scones still warm from the oven, and a selection of petits fours that included a miniature lemon tart that tasted like sunshine.
I had read that the Pump Room's water comes directly from the same spring the Romans used, so we each took a small glass from the fountain in the corner. It arrived warm, slightly metallic, and absolutely authentic. Emma made a face; I found it oddly grounding. We sipped our English breakfast tea and plotted the rest of the afternoon — a walk through the Sydney Gardens, a stop at the Jane Austen Centre, and perhaps a glass of local sparkling wine at a quiet bar off the main square.
Following Jane Austen’s Footsteps
For any literary-minded traveller, Bath is inseparable from Jane Austen. She lived here for several years and set two of her novels — Northanger Abbey and Persuasion — in the city. We spent a couple of hours at the Jane Austen Centre on Gay Street, a townhouse that captures the era with costumes, letters, and a charmingly cluttered parlour. The staff member who greeted us wore a Regency gown and spoke about Austen’s life with such warmth that I felt I was visiting a friend’s home rather than a museum.
After the Centre, we followed a self-guided walking tour from a brochure we picked up. It led us past the Royal Crescent — that iconic sweep of thirty terraced houses — and down to the Circus, where Austen herself once attended dances. We paused on the gravel path of the Royal Crescent lawn, imagining the clatter of carriage wheels and the rustle of silk skirts. Emma took a photo of me standing at the end of the crescent, arms open, as if embracing the symmetry. It became our favourite picture of the trip.
More Than the Classics: Hidden Bath
While the famous sights are essential, some of our most memorable moments came from wandering without a map. We stumbled upon the Holburne Museum, a small art gallery at the end of Great Pulteney Street, and spent an hour in its café overlooking Sydney Gardens — the oldest pleasure gardens in England. The garden’s paths, lined with ancient trees and a canal, felt like a secret. We also discovered a tiny bookshop called Topping & Company on the Paragon, where the staff had handwritten recommendations on slips of paper tucked into the shelves. I bought a worn copy of Persuasion and read a chapter on a bench in the garden behind Bath Abbey.
Practical Details for Your Own Girls’ Getaway
If you’re planning a similar trip, here are a few things that made ours go smoothly:
- Getting there: Bath Spa is about 90 minutes from London Paddington by direct train. We booked an off-peak return for around £35 each. The station is a ten-minute walk from the city centre.
- Where to stay: We chose a boutique guesthouse on Pulteney Road — the Bath Boutique Stays — with a garden and two twin beds. For a more indulgent option, the Royal Crescent Hotel offers spa packages that include access to their private thermal pool.
- Booking the spa: Thermae Bath Spa requires advance booking, especially for evening sessions. We reserved two weeks ahead. Prices start at £38 for a two-hour session. Bring a swimsuit and a change of clothes — the steam room is intense.
- Afternoon tea reservations: The Pump Room accepts walk-ins, but we booked online to guarantee a window table. The cost is £32 per person. For a twist, try the Dower House restaurant at the Royal Crescent Hotel, which serves a Champagne afternoon tea with views of the lawn.
- Jane Austen Centre tickets: £12.50 per adult. The tour takes about 45 minutes, but we lingered in the gift shop for another twenty — the bonnet replicas are dangerously tempting.
- Packing advice: Layers. July in Bath can shift from warm sun to cool drizzle within an hour. A light raincoat, comfortable walking shoes, and a scarf that doubles as a picnic blanket served us well.
An Evening to Remember
On our last evening, we skipped the crowded pubs and instead bought a bottle of local sparkling wine from the Bath Wine Vaults on North Parade Passage. We carried it to the grassy slope just below the Royal Crescent, where the sun was beginning to dip behind the hill. We sat on my scarf, sipping from plastic cups, and talked about the things we never have time to discuss at home — dreams, fears, the next trip we’d take together. The city lights flickered on one by one, and the sky turned the colour of a ripening peach. It was the kind of moment that doesn’t need a photograph to be remembered. And as we walked back to our guesthouse through the quiet streets, I knew this girls’ getaway had given us exactly what we needed: time to breathe, to laugh, and to feel the warmth of a friendship that, like Bath’s thermal waters, never quite cools.
