Back in London, with a few days to spare, I decided to make use of the remainder of my London Heritage Pass and visit a handful of places I had long wanted to see. High on that list was Stonehenge, a site I had been curious about for as long as I could remember.
An early morning departure from London set the plan in motion, heading west toward Bath with the intention of spending a few hours exploring the city before continuing on to Salisbury, where I would catch a bus out to Stonehenge. The day was meant to finish back in Salisbury, meeting up with Megan, whom I hadn’t seen in nearly a year.
Travel plans, however, have a habit of shifting. Leaving Clapham, I took a wrong turn and ended up heading in the opposite direction, which resulted in an unexpected and slightly painful extra fare from Liverpool Street. What felt frustrating at the time turned out to have a silver lining.
Bath greeted me with its usual elegance. Compact, refined and rich with history, it felt immediately welcoming. The Roman Baths were first on the list, fed by natural hot springs that have been in use since Roman times, followed closely by Bath Abbey, standing just moments away. Wandering through the heart of the city, it was easy to appreciate how carefully preserved the architecture is, giving Bath a timeless quality.
With time tight, I made my way back toward the station to catch the train to Salisbury. Sitting on the platform, I watched the train arrive at the far end, only to realise too late that it was a short three-car unit and already departing. A quick check of my ticket revealed another surprise, the new ticket I had purchased was valid for several days. Thinking quickly, I messaged Megan to see if she was free the following evening. She was, and just like that, the plan shifted again.
Staying the night in Bath opened up new possibilities. With the afternoon free and only a daypack in hand, a quick trip to Bristol felt like the right move. A few hours wandering the city offered a contrast to Bath’s formality before returning in the evening. Back in Bath, the highlight came at the rooftop thermal baths, where warm mineral water flows from the hot spring into open-air pools overlooking the city. Relaxed and refreshed, I spent the evening wandering the streets before turning in at a local hostel.
The following morning began with a visit to the Royal Crescent, one of Bath’s most recognisable landmarks, before boarding the train toward Salisbury. A short walk through town led to the bus bound for Stonehenge. Seeing the stones in person was a moment I had anticipated for years. Smaller than expected, yet undeniably powerful, standing among them carried a quiet weight, knowing they have stood there for thousands of years, long before written history.
Returning to Salisbury, the cathedral became the next stop. Home to the tallest spire in England and the best-preserved copy of the Magna Carta, the building is impressive both inside and out. The scale, detail and history contained within its walls made it one of the most memorable churches I visited during the trip. Later that afternoon, I met Megan for dinner and a few drinks, grateful for the chance to catch up before saying goodbye again, unsure when our paths would next cross.
The train back to London offered a moment to reflect. What began as a tightly planned day had turned into several unexpectedly rewarding ones.
With departure plans beginning to form in the back of my mind, I wanted to be sure I had seen as much of London as possible. St Paul’s Cathedral remained unchecked, so a visit there felt essential. The interior was stunning, and the climb to the top rewarded with sweeping views across the city, a fitting way to take in London one last time.
A few more days passed before the pull toward North America became impossible to ignore. The excitement was building, and I felt ready for the next chapter. Still, there was one final destination calling.
Ireland was next, and choosing to go there felt entirely right.
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