By Tuesday I was ready to get out of Oxford. I could blame some of my weird temperament on having planned to get out of Oxford--I stayed up much of the night in an insomniatic fit, thinking of what clothes would be best to wear in the cold and rain, considering my small choice of rain-appropriate shoes, and I kept counting down the minutes in Dr. Eberle's class, waiting on the bus instead of paying good attention and talking in class. But, I do think it was time to get away from the constant studying (especially with Jane Eyre, which we overstudied in ENGL 3000 this spring, I just didn't want to!). So, what a good thing that several of my friends were going to London!
Julianna and I ran to the bus station, chatting about our favorite hot movie actors, having high tea some afternoon, and basically anything except class, which I could hardly get my brain around. We ate on the run in one of the many coffee/sandwich shops around Gloucester Green (I finally got a chicken and mushroom pie! everyone always takes them before I can get to them at lunch in the dining hall!) and then each took a row in the pretty roomy Oxford Espress. The weather was nice at the time, sunny all over except for the most sinister clouds I had ever seen heading, I thought, toward London, so I had a fun look around the outskirts of Oxford. I hadn't seen any of the three rivers before, and when we went over a bridge I saw some boats for punting (aka pushing yourself around the rocky water with a big pole instead of paddling or using motors like normal people--a strange hobby in the purportedly intellectual Oxford atmosphere). Must do that sometime before it gets too cold for me to laugh about falling into the river.
I passed out for most of the bus ride, but driving into the city was strange. At first it looked a lot like New York, with projects dotting a pretty industrial landscape followed by lots of light-up billboards. Closer in the city turned into a weird mash of antique white townhomes and office buildings, random circus-like gates and sculptures, modern apartments and hotels curved like sails or with round holes bored right through them, car dealerships in glassed-in rooms on small alleys that are completely inaccessible by car. We drove by The Dorchester and I dorkily said "It's just like in 'Wimbledon'!" Eventually we were dumped out onto the streets of London, conveniently right in front of Buckingham Palace, our first destination. We were a bit too early to meet Ashley and Mary Catherine, who had gotten to the city earlier to tour Parliament before it closes to visitors with the new session, so we took off down a smart looking street in search of caffeine. We had a close call with a snack bar called "Crumpets" (crumpets were actually not on their menu, so we scoffed and left), but an Illy coffee sign lured us to a cute cafe where a plump Italian man sang to us as he made our cappuccinos. So rarely do we ever let ourselves take a break in Oxford that it was nice to just sit, drink really slowly, and chat.
We caught up with the other pair in the not-so-proper queue at the less scenic side of Buckingham Palace. Per usual, we had to wait, go through security, and pick up our audio wands, and the new-ish tents and rooms we had to file through in this routine procedure didn't prepare me for how amazing the palace would be. We could peer out of the curtained windows into the front courtyard, which as soon as we saw became drenched in the weird, fluffy sort of British rain that has been puzzling me the last week (it looks like snow flurries! WTF, mate?). The hallway dropped us off in the low-ceilinged, red carpeted entry hall, where we were ushered up the grand staircase into the loftier royal apartments above. Everything was wrought, gold or porcelain or painted, and roped-off or strangely set behind plexi-glass so that no one could actually touch it, but the dozen or so rooms we got to see were nonetheless breathtaking. It was strange, as an American, thinking about the king that we hated paying taxes to having the money to make separate green, yellow, blue, red, and white drawing rooms. And even stranger to think that someone still lives there now, walking down the football field-sized galleries of royal portraits and marble statues, eating off fancy china with gold, Greyhound-dotted tea services, sitting on thrones! There was a fantastic exhibit of the Queen's wedding gifts, clothes, and jewels since this year she and her husband are celebrating their 60th anniversary, and all of their honors (sashes and brooches and medals) they have gathered during their marriage/reign were set out in the largest ballroom in the country. It did not rain as we walked along the south end of the palace's garden, but as soon as we had wound our way out to the street to meet Carly and Sarah it rained in the real, strong American style and we descended into a chaos of almost hitting old ladies with our pop-open umbrellas, finding a cab, dropping our (well, just Ashley's) cell phone in a mad dash across the busiest roundabout (read: scary traffic death-trap) in England, and settling in for dinner at the "American Italian" restaurant, Little Frankie's.
12:48 am Oxford time--I am so tired. You'll see why when I write the rest of this update tomorrow. --Lauren
12:30 am Saturday--Little Frankie's was like the restaurant Michael and Rita go to in Wee Britain in Arrested Development, when they get the baskets full of doughnuts. I think the immigrants who run it think that everyone in New York is Italian, listens to Elvis Prestley and Frankie Valli, and drinks milkshakes. Julianna and I shared an "American Hot" pizza, which was a thin, greasy thing covered in pepperonis and the most ascetic-looking jalapenos I've ever seen, but it was good. Also, for dessert, Mary Catherine and Ashley shared with us a "Boston Brownie" dessert with the least amount of brownie possible. It was a monstrous concoction of chocolate and vanilla ice cream, chocolate malt balls, chocolate and caramel syrup, and a few hunks of fudgy brownies--the Brits, as usual, wanted to put some red berries in there with it, but we demanded that the plate have no nutritional value.
We took another cab from Trafalgar Square to the Globe, and as we wound our way through a few roundabouts and along the Thames we heard the call to rock out and answered it. The cab driver had on this great rock radio station, and we asked him to crank it up when Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" started up. Amid singing, playing the air drums, and laughing crazily, we got an amazing view of the river--Big Ben peeked out every once in awhile from behind the parks in town, the London Eye was just lighting up, we pointed at St. Paul's Cathedral and that weird Fabergé egg-shaped building from Layer Cake, and several industrial-looking alleys brought us to Sarah and Carly the entrance of the Globe.
Seeing a show at Shakespeare's theatre was just... odd. At times it did not feel very remarkable, and at other times my head spun a bit as I thought of the building (or at least some version of it) being there over four centuries ago. Carly acted the true road dog when she lent me three quid to get a Pimm's and lemonade (apparently, a highly contested recipe of a popular gin drink, which has to have lemons, limes, oranges, and cucumbers dumped into it so that I could look dorky eating them after downing the glass), and we settled in near some nice guys who helped us take pictures and a group of middle or high school girls with all the same atrocious, fried blonde, mullet-like tapered long haircuts. One of the actors in the play had a role in Master and Commander, said the program, and another one (or possibly the same--I haven't seen Master and Commander) looked pretty cute until he smiled and revealed some typically British teeth. Apparently the Globe is under a well-trafficked flight path--every few minutes the voices from the stage were drowned out by a rumbling we were glad was not thunder, because the Globe is an open-air theatre in the round and any rain would have made us poor groundlings in the centre very wet. At intermission (before the play reopened on a scene at a picnic), the ladies in the play walked around with trays full of cheese to feed us! All in all, I didn't understand everything of Love's Labours Lost, but I can see how hysterical it would have been for my peasant forefathers. Lots of bawdiness, silly priests and people dressing up like Cossacks, and fun players who could act, sing, and dance.
Our homecoming was a little troubled--hailing a taxi on top of a freezing bridge over the river was drawn out a bit too long, a guy on the bus talked on his cell phone the whole way home after midnight, and a mean-spirited Oxford taxi driver grumbled about "Americans" on his cell phone on our very convoluted way back to Banbury Road. We got to sleep around 2, and I woke up at 8 to prepare for class.
Since then we've had some UGA at Oxford fun (read: brief, guilty, sober fun) to break up the last long days of the seminars. Thursday was Lindsay's 20th birthday and we finally got out to a real English afternoon tea to celebrate! There is a squirrelly alleyway under the glass bridge between the buildings across from the library, windy and full of colleges and people in strange robes, that leads right to The Rose, an incredibly cute cafe on High Street (which I need to explore much more than I already have--I hardly knew it existed until we drove by it on the bus on the way to London, and it's like "Main Street"!). A cute but kind of persnickety waiter helped us to our English cream tea, which meant we each got a pot of tea (I got Darjeeling, totally "the champagne of teas"), two fluffy, warm, buttery scones (a lot like southern-style biscuits), homemade strawberry jam, and clotted cream (like whipped cream, only denser and more dairy-tasting). We will definitely be going back at least once a week. We've also shopped at Primark (I got $8 shoes!) and Zara (I couldn't afford anything!), gone on several grocery runs, and watched Layer Cake. But, enough goofing off--I need to write two more papers tomorrow. ;)
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
Becoming Jane
I am still very content in Oxford. I'm not sure if I've yet explained how wonderful crumpets are. They are like English muffins, only the holes go right through to the top, so you don't have to split them. What you do is use a ton of butter (hi, Mom, and Paula Deen) to soak through the top of a toasted crumpet, and what you then do to make it better is to add a ton of jam. I eat two or three crumpets in this style everyday, but I'm still convinced I'm getting skinnier.
Biking is still fun. I feel like I have a little British guardian angel somewhere because it has yet to rain while I've been on my bike. One day, it was clear on my way to the dining hall for lunch, it rained for the 20 minutes they allow us to eat lunch, and then it was clear for my ride home. I have gotten a lot more confident in my not-falling-over skills, riding with regular traffic when the bike lanes end instead of nerdishly taking the crosswalks and driving as far as the movie theatre (in one direction) or my favorite movie store (in the other). Everything I possibly need is accessible.
Tuesday in particular was a really good day. I gave my presentation in Dr. Eberle's class and even chimed in during discussion. A lot! I figured it was time to just get over my nerves, and ever since I've really participating and even talking with Dr. Eberle after class. And everyone is so nice and encouraging that it's just like talking with friends anyway! I sat in the library industriously for most of that day (because, if I haven't proven it yet, I am almost always working), and even there it's fun just taking a minute or two to talk with friends. I worry that some of us are getting to know each other too well--at one point we all watched Kao leave a note on his computer, telling his roommate David not to mess with his paper or else he'd eat his brain, and then David came in and tried to mess with the computer like we all expected! It probably looks like a bland story as I've told it here, but it was funny to us and we all had to stop working for several minutes to keep laughing.
Wednesday, my not-too-free day off, I coerced Julianna, David, and Lindsey to go with me to the Odeon on George Street to see the movie Atonement. I had been wanting to see something so bad, so I'm glad they put me out of my misery. First of all, I have to say the movie theatres here are too cute. We had to stand in line for a lot longer than we should have, but we amused ourselves by looking at the concession stand and seeing "warmed popcorn" listed (like we really wanted cold popcorn! Thanks a lot, England!). Even with the student discount tickets were 6 pounds (like $12!), but the Brits do this neat thing where you have to pick a particular seat to sit in, so you can sit where you like with your friends without having to get there ridiculously early and save seats. It was a few extra pence for the "premier" seats, which were this posh suade things with cupholders, but even our seats in one of the back rows were great. They showed a lot of previews (that one with George Clooney looks great!), and before the film rolled they had a notice that it had been approved by the film board in Great Britain. So official.
Please don't get mad at me as I gush about this amazing film. I hadn't realized that it doesn't come out in the U.S. for another three months, so I definitely feel about as rock star for having seen it already as I did about anything at Cannes. It makes sense that it came out here first, where the book Atonement was a huge bestseller, so that the film will make enough profits to be able to get to the few art theatres that will proudly show it in places like Midtown and W Hancock Avenue. BUT on a less businesslike note, the film might be one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. At first I worried it would be pretentious, but I had to let the typewriter-soundtrack-music go and focus on the rich shots and characters. It's hard to describe except by saying that it felt so big, like it completely absorbed what it was like to live during that time and in that family. Keira Knightley and James McAvoy indeed act with ugly stick notably absent, and the way the film shows each of them living their lives and thinking of the other felt as close to getting inside a character's mind as is possible on screen. And that 4.5 minute shot of the beach at Dunkirk...! Be prepared for some awkward laughs, and a lot of grief, but I think most people will enjoy the film as I did, as something so different from what you usually go to the theatre to see.
I'm about to hit the hay (or, rather, my bunk bed) early so that I'll have a long, productive day ahead of me tomorrow to polish up my one written essay and write my other completely mind-blowing idea for Dr. Eberle's class. It all, as well as two books and several long poems, needs to get done, because on Sunday I'm pretty sure we will finally go to London! More pictures to follow if I ever see anything picture-worthy (because everything here is picturesque, I need to be even more choosy), but always love from across the pond,
Lauren
Biking is still fun. I feel like I have a little British guardian angel somewhere because it has yet to rain while I've been on my bike. One day, it was clear on my way to the dining hall for lunch, it rained for the 20 minutes they allow us to eat lunch, and then it was clear for my ride home. I have gotten a lot more confident in my not-falling-over skills, riding with regular traffic when the bike lanes end instead of nerdishly taking the crosswalks and driving as far as the movie theatre (in one direction) or my favorite movie store (in the other). Everything I possibly need is accessible.
Tuesday in particular was a really good day. I gave my presentation in Dr. Eberle's class and even chimed in during discussion. A lot! I figured it was time to just get over my nerves, and ever since I've really participating and even talking with Dr. Eberle after class. And everyone is so nice and encouraging that it's just like talking with friends anyway! I sat in the library industriously for most of that day (because, if I haven't proven it yet, I am almost always working), and even there it's fun just taking a minute or two to talk with friends. I worry that some of us are getting to know each other too well--at one point we all watched Kao leave a note on his computer, telling his roommate David not to mess with his paper or else he'd eat his brain, and then David came in and tried to mess with the computer like we all expected! It probably looks like a bland story as I've told it here, but it was funny to us and we all had to stop working for several minutes to keep laughing.
Wednesday, my not-too-free day off, I coerced Julianna, David, and Lindsey to go with me to the Odeon on George Street to see the movie Atonement. I had been wanting to see something so bad, so I'm glad they put me out of my misery. First of all, I have to say the movie theatres here are too cute. We had to stand in line for a lot longer than we should have, but we amused ourselves by looking at the concession stand and seeing "warmed popcorn" listed (like we really wanted cold popcorn! Thanks a lot, England!). Even with the student discount tickets were 6 pounds (like $12!), but the Brits do this neat thing where you have to pick a particular seat to sit in, so you can sit where you like with your friends without having to get there ridiculously early and save seats. It was a few extra pence for the "premier" seats, which were this posh suade things with cupholders, but even our seats in one of the back rows were great. They showed a lot of previews (that one with George Clooney looks great!), and before the film rolled they had a notice that it had been approved by the film board in Great Britain. So official.
Please don't get mad at me as I gush about this amazing film. I hadn't realized that it doesn't come out in the U.S. for another three months, so I definitely feel about as rock star for having seen it already as I did about anything at Cannes. It makes sense that it came out here first, where the book Atonement was a huge bestseller, so that the film will make enough profits to be able to get to the few art theatres that will proudly show it in places like Midtown and W Hancock Avenue. BUT on a less businesslike note, the film might be one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. At first I worried it would be pretentious, but I had to let the typewriter-soundtrack-music go and focus on the rich shots and characters. It's hard to describe except by saying that it felt so big, like it completely absorbed what it was like to live during that time and in that family. Keira Knightley and James McAvoy indeed act with ugly stick notably absent, and the way the film shows each of them living their lives and thinking of the other felt as close to getting inside a character's mind as is possible on screen. And that 4.5 minute shot of the beach at Dunkirk...! Be prepared for some awkward laughs, and a lot of grief, but I think most people will enjoy the film as I did, as something so different from what you usually go to the theatre to see.
I'm about to hit the hay (or, rather, my bunk bed) early so that I'll have a long, productive day ahead of me tomorrow to polish up my one written essay and write my other completely mind-blowing idea for Dr. Eberle's class. It all, as well as two books and several long poems, needs to get done, because on Sunday I'm pretty sure we will finally go to London! More pictures to follow if I ever see anything picture-worthy (because everything here is picturesque, I need to be even more choosy), but always love from across the pond,
Lauren
Monday, September 17, 2007
Lauren hungry!
A fun tidbit: When it's dinner time in Oxford, it smells like dinner time. The streets smell like curry and sausages and, ah yes, potatoes.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Like riding a bike
My first week of seminars was (relatively) painless. Both classes I'm taking, Dr. Southcombe's English historiography of the Elizabethan period and Dr. Eberle's 19th century women's writing, meet for two hours apiece, but I have been pleasantly surprised to find that both feel like they are too brief. Dr. Eberle does a wonderful job of guiding the class when we seem to need a bit more direction in the texts, but we really haven't seen too much of Dr. Southcombe; he summarizes our arguments or corrects our logic if we didn't express ourselves best, and then he leaves us to discuss what we found interesting in considering the two questions he always poses at the start of class. Even though there are no more than 10 people in any of the UGA seminars, everyone is so smart and driven to get their thoughts heard, and I'm going to keep trying harder to get a word in edgewise/conquer my tendency to not say the occasional intelligent thought that enters my head... ;)
We read all the time. When we're not reading (eating, sleeping, walking to class), we're probably thinking about reading. I have 6 texts to know the finer points of by the end of the long weekend, and I'm trying not to let that faze me. It's really pretty enjoyable, and not at all difficult, to go to the library, request a few books, and read/take notes for several hours. I have two papers to write by next weekend and am pretty cheerfully going with the idea that eventually, before the week is out, they will be done.
It's only been a week, so I really shouldn't be as antsy, but I'm ready to take advantage of a bit more freedom/geography around Oxford. In efforts to effect this goal, I rented a bike for the term and have had an amusing time remembering how to ride one. It is totally not "just like riding a bike"! Julianna and several amiable locals watched as I wobbled around the residential streets (and a neat hidden garden!), skimming past parked cars and getting on/off the bike at stop signs with extreme caution and a lot of frantic leg movements. I probably still looked petrified as I said, "Pshaw, why not ride down Banbury Road?", but after one truck honking at me I sucked it up and made a pretty straight beeline to the Lamb and Flag, where I knew I could safely turn around and go home. I then got my books and rode back to Keble to get some work done and have enjoyed my bike ever since. It gets me everywhere so fast, and I will make use of the unexpected extra time by... reading? :P
A few of us around the house had been making grand plans to go to London over the weekend, but an overnight became a daytrip became a "maybe next week?" and I'm just as content to stay at home. After Keble's illustrious "Mexican night" (or should I say "canned chili on top of white rice with cubed vegetables night"? you may cringe, but "I just want to eat a goddamn avocado" girl was starving and thus thought it tasted awesome), we stopped by the Keble pub for a drink and then merrily biked/enviously watched the two smartest people in the house bike home to watch what became three movies on the glorious HDTV. Julianna and I actually sat through the so-bad-it's-good mess that was "The Abduction Club" (OK, so in the 18th century second sons couldn't inherit anything so they'd occasionally abduct wealthy heiresses to marry well and avoid entering the church--compelling, but not in this movie). The guys eventually got back from their walk home and, catching the end of the movie, demanded that they pick the next one, so we watched "Happy Gilmore." I don't think that one is any better, even for the wrangle with Bob Barker. But the night was still young, and Sara had found "Love Actually" in our amazingly rich VHS collection, so we made it a triple feature and I woke up humming "All You Need is Love."
I spent most of today reading on various sofas (or, as Jane Austen would say, "sophas"), but Mark, Kao and I walked to M & S for lunch supplies and I had the best microwave Indian chicken ever. I think a sizeable group of us will be going out for a pub dinner to make the weekend a bit more exciting, and another movie or not (come on, "Run Fatboy Run"! Please?!) I'm very content. I definitely can see myself living here for another 11 weeks, and even though there's no other option I'm glad.
We read all the time. When we're not reading (eating, sleeping, walking to class), we're probably thinking about reading. I have 6 texts to know the finer points of by the end of the long weekend, and I'm trying not to let that faze me. It's really pretty enjoyable, and not at all difficult, to go to the library, request a few books, and read/take notes for several hours. I have two papers to write by next weekend and am pretty cheerfully going with the idea that eventually, before the week is out, they will be done.
It's only been a week, so I really shouldn't be as antsy, but I'm ready to take advantage of a bit more freedom/geography around Oxford. In efforts to effect this goal, I rented a bike for the term and have had an amusing time remembering how to ride one. It is totally not "just like riding a bike"! Julianna and several amiable locals watched as I wobbled around the residential streets (and a neat hidden garden!), skimming past parked cars and getting on/off the bike at stop signs with extreme caution and a lot of frantic leg movements. I probably still looked petrified as I said, "Pshaw, why not ride down Banbury Road?", but after one truck honking at me I sucked it up and made a pretty straight beeline to the Lamb and Flag, where I knew I could safely turn around and go home. I then got my books and rode back to Keble to get some work done and have enjoyed my bike ever since. It gets me everywhere so fast, and I will make use of the unexpected extra time by... reading? :P
A few of us around the house had been making grand plans to go to London over the weekend, but an overnight became a daytrip became a "maybe next week?" and I'm just as content to stay at home. After Keble's illustrious "Mexican night" (or should I say "canned chili on top of white rice with cubed vegetables night"? you may cringe, but "I just want to eat a goddamn avocado" girl was starving and thus thought it tasted awesome), we stopped by the Keble pub for a drink and then merrily biked/enviously watched the two smartest people in the house bike home to watch what became three movies on the glorious HDTV. Julianna and I actually sat through the so-bad-it's-good mess that was "The Abduction Club" (OK, so in the 18th century second sons couldn't inherit anything so they'd occasionally abduct wealthy heiresses to marry well and avoid entering the church--compelling, but not in this movie). The guys eventually got back from their walk home and, catching the end of the movie, demanded that they pick the next one, so we watched "Happy Gilmore." I don't think that one is any better, even for the wrangle with Bob Barker. But the night was still young, and Sara had found "Love Actually" in our amazingly rich VHS collection, so we made it a triple feature and I woke up humming "All You Need is Love."
I spent most of today reading on various sofas (or, as Jane Austen would say, "sophas"), but Mark, Kao and I walked to M & S for lunch supplies and I had the best microwave Indian chicken ever. I think a sizeable group of us will be going out for a pub dinner to make the weekend a bit more exciting, and another movie or not (come on, "Run Fatboy Run"! Please?!) I'm very content. I definitely can see myself living here for another 11 weeks, and even though there's no other option I'm glad.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Playing catch-up...
Here goes my newer attempt to describe my fun day of studying (?!). I wrote this on a break in the Radcliffe Camera, so if I rhapsodize over it a bit it probably came from just looking around myself. Enjoy! --Lauren 10:50 p.m. Oxford time
On Monday a handful of the girls got up early to test the capricious system that is dining at Keble. Gabriel had contacted the office about meal times over the weekend and heard that breakfast would be served from 9:00-9:15, "seriously." We bolted out of the house at 8:40, and the long walk left us only a few seconds to gasp at the meticulously trimmed front quad (they're just begging for you to walk on them! I have never walked by more dangerous lawns in my life!) before running up the stairs into the lofty dining hall.
Oxford has instilled in us a sense of hierarchy very quickly, so even though we were allowed to sit "just this once" at the high table situated horizontally at the top of the room we picked to admire the general splendor/wolf down our toast from one of the three long tables. The hall is a four or five story arch of mottled brown, white, and red bricks, with seemingly Indian scalloped flowers and ribs along the ceiling (you might be able to tell from the pictures that the samemotif was used in the Taj Mahal--a neat/eerie relic of the colonialism thriving at the time of Keble's founding). Along the walls there are portraits of the college's most celebrated dons in a variety of poses (a lot of options to consider for how we we each should be commemorated once we are famous intellectuals... I think I might test the red carpet, over the shoulder look, yet unpainted). Breakfast in the end didn't seem too fast, as we all had time for gaping/our cards not working/popping coffee pods into the oddly hip instant beverage maker.
After quitting the dining hall we figured we could trespass in the unopened college a little longer and followed Gabriel past the chapel (which has a pre-Raphaelite painting we supposedly must see), the college bar (where Keble subsidies makes the drinks cheaper! President Adams would probably cry!), and the mini-gym that I might join if I feel like the 3+ miles of walking per day isn't enough. We also ventured into the covered market in town, where Gabriel showed us the best places for cheap food (Fasta Pasta and some pie company) before Julianna and Sarah and I split off to get Julianna a "rucksack" (a.k.a. backpack) at Argos, some weird communist store where you look through a catalogue in the small front room and the cashier goes to get your purchase from the back.
One of my favorite parts of Oxford thus far revealed itself to us when we breezed past the "visitors not allowed" sign to enter the Radcliffe Camera. A friendly old man checked our Bodleian cards and bogs and explained the reading rooms to us, and we went as quietly as we could among gasps of "Bitchin'!" into the lower reading room. The circular "basement" reading rom is made up of eight stone domes of shelves, long desks with personal lamps, and wrought-iron gated windows encircling a central reference desk, which makes the room feel at once huge and secluded, cavelike, and warm. We ventured into the brighter upper camera, with its two stories of shelves, svelte iron spiral staircases, and white columns, but I could tell that I felt more at home in the basement. Even a look at the Bodleian--its square staircases around old dumbwaiters, its "cloakrooms" (or bathrooms), its closer-set desks bathed in orange lamplight, and its musty shelves of original manuscripts and first editions in the mahogany Duke Humphrey's library (a.k.a Hogwarts library)--could not keep me from going back and reading "A Room of One's Own" in the lower camera. It feels too surreal and pretentious, but somehow the atmosphere encourages me to think better, and to feel that everyone wants me to think better; studying oddly enough has become my most anticipated activity every day if I can sit and think there.
The rest of Monday, post library crawl, is a bit foggy. I know we ate lunch with some of the Keble students who run the college activities over the holidays. They are all very friendly and want us to play frisbee with them (they seem to think all Americans are very athletic), and I hope that I'll feel less awkward/find more to say to them soon. I'm sure I studied a bit, and that I spent a fun hour in the kitchen puzzling over the title of an old movie with Julianna and David, but my memory stops there. I keep feeling like I've been here so long and have the right to be exhausted and useless after every long day/refreshed and full of thoughts the next morning--have I really only been here a week?
On Monday a handful of the girls got up early to test the capricious system that is dining at Keble. Gabriel had contacted the office about meal times over the weekend and heard that breakfast would be served from 9:00-9:15, "seriously." We bolted out of the house at 8:40, and the long walk left us only a few seconds to gasp at the meticulously trimmed front quad (they're just begging for you to walk on them! I have never walked by more dangerous lawns in my life!) before running up the stairs into the lofty dining hall.
Oxford has instilled in us a sense of hierarchy very quickly, so even though we were allowed to sit "just this once" at the high table situated horizontally at the top of the room we picked to admire the general splendor/wolf down our toast from one of the three long tables. The hall is a four or five story arch of mottled brown, white, and red bricks, with seemingly Indian scalloped flowers and ribs along the ceiling (you might be able to tell from the pictures that the samemotif was used in the Taj Mahal--a neat/eerie relic of the colonialism thriving at the time of Keble's founding). Along the walls there are portraits of the college's most celebrated dons in a variety of poses (a lot of options to consider for how we we each should be commemorated once we are famous intellectuals... I think I might test the red carpet, over the shoulder look, yet unpainted). Breakfast in the end didn't seem too fast, as we all had time for gaping/our cards not working/popping coffee pods into the oddly hip instant beverage maker.
After quitting the dining hall we figured we could trespass in the unopened college a little longer and followed Gabriel past the chapel (which has a pre-Raphaelite painting we supposedly must see), the college bar (where Keble subsidies makes the drinks cheaper! President Adams would probably cry!), and the mini-gym that I might join if I feel like the 3+ miles of walking per day isn't enough. We also ventured into the covered market in town, where Gabriel showed us the best places for cheap food (Fasta Pasta and some pie company) before Julianna and Sarah and I split off to get Julianna a "rucksack" (a.k.a. backpack) at Argos, some weird communist store where you look through a catalogue in the small front room and the cashier goes to get your purchase from the back.
One of my favorite parts of Oxford thus far revealed itself to us when we breezed past the "visitors not allowed" sign to enter the Radcliffe Camera. A friendly old man checked our Bodleian cards and bogs and explained the reading rooms to us, and we went as quietly as we could among gasps of "Bitchin'!" into the lower reading room. The circular "basement" reading rom is made up of eight stone domes of shelves, long desks with personal lamps, and wrought-iron gated windows encircling a central reference desk, which makes the room feel at once huge and secluded, cavelike, and warm. We ventured into the brighter upper camera, with its two stories of shelves, svelte iron spiral staircases, and white columns, but I could tell that I felt more at home in the basement. Even a look at the Bodleian--its square staircases around old dumbwaiters, its "cloakrooms" (or bathrooms), its closer-set desks bathed in orange lamplight, and its musty shelves of original manuscripts and first editions in the mahogany Duke Humphrey's library (a.k.a Hogwarts library)--could not keep me from going back and reading "A Room of One's Own" in the lower camera. It feels too surreal and pretentious, but somehow the atmosphere encourages me to think better, and to feel that everyone wants me to think better; studying oddly enough has become my most anticipated activity every day if I can sit and think there.
The rest of Monday, post library crawl, is a bit foggy. I know we ate lunch with some of the Keble students who run the college activities over the holidays. They are all very friendly and want us to play frisbee with them (they seem to think all Americans are very athletic), and I hope that I'll feel less awkward/find more to say to them soon. I'm sure I studied a bit, and that I spent a fun hour in the kitchen puzzling over the title of an old movie with Julianna and David, but my memory stops there. I keep feeling like I've been here so long and have the right to be exhausted and useless after every long day/refreshed and full of thoughts the next morning--have I really only been here a week?
Monday, September 10, 2007
Stonehenge, Bath, and the Bod
I feel like a lot of what happened on Saturday can be covered by looking at my photo albums (picasaweb.google.com/elmorelt), but for the sake of refreshing my own memory I'll rehash a few things here. Whoever tells you that Stonehenge is intriguing and/or breathtaking is probably high. It is mysterious indeed that people thousands of years ago wanted to drag these 4 ton stones into the middle of nowhere, but after hearing about/seeing Stonehenge in so many history books and films seeing it in person didn't do anything new for me. You don't even get to "get up close and personal" (as one UGA student put it) with it anymore! It was a cold morning, so most of us took a few funny pictures with the rocks to lighten the mood and generally scurried past most of the numbers posted on the ground that guided our audio tour. If even a historical society can't make heads or tails of Stonehenge, I figure it is best left a mystery.
We drove another hour to see Bath, the town which houses England's only natural hot spring. Jane Austen lived in Bath for a few years, so I was ready to get a bit more into her mindframe as several of us set out for the Jane Austen Centre in a northern area of town. We could see how Bath was a fashionable social center as we walked up rows and rows of shops (including The Disney Store?), and the fancy clothes/small rooms/traffic around the residential streets made Bath for me as well as for Ms. Austen a fun place to visit but nowhere to dream of living. The Centre was pretty small, with only a few decorated rooms, a costume exhibit, and a tea room that we didn't have time to visit, but I am pretty glad that we went. The girl who gave a small talk on the Austen family's time in Bath was enthusiastic in a nerdy but cute way, so I could envision myself having a job like hers if I lived in Bath. Since we were in the neighborhood anyway, we passed through the townhomes known as The Circus and the Royal Crescent--the huge scale of the architecture was overwhelming the the best of ways, and I could have sat on the sprawling grass park in front of the Crescent just people-watching for the rest of the day.
Eventually we did amble back to the center of town, and, upon the advice of a passing group of fellow UGA students, we coughed up the 9 pounds apiece to go in the Roman Baths. Money well spent! I laughed about the balmy atmosphere around the percolating, green pool reminding me of home in Georgia, and even though we were not allowed to bathe we enjoyed taking pictures from all possible angles, listening to the fun/fact-filled tour over the "audio wands" (much cooler than their Stonehenge counterparts), and imagining what the largely unexcavated ruins must have looked like in their prime. We skittered in and out of the abbey next door before we had to return to the bus; the hodge-podge of family crests and tombstones dotting the floors and the walls of the old building made a neat contrast with the vaulted ceilings and hundreds of stained glass windows above. There even was a modern evening service going on during our tour! With what I've seen of England so far, I am constantly impressed by the attitude of renovating and reappropriating history--as weird as it might look to tour the baths with a glorified walkie-talkie, or to sit in a Victorian house typing on a computer, you can never ignore the wonderful history of this place.
We took a bit of downtime once we got back to Oxford (I had to lay down, since even sitting has aggravated what feels like an arthritic hip I've gotten from walking so much!), but then several of us decided to hunt for the elusive Turf Tavern. We found it with little difficulty, but we arrived just after they had stopped serving food at 7:30 and I split off with the group that went in search for supper. We saw a sign for "excellent food" on the side of the King's Arms, a pub on the corner of Broad Street across from the library buildings, and, having eaten two bowls of cereal earlier, I had just to sit and be jealous of my friends' "veg lasagne" and "bangers & mash." I enjoyed my cider with the best of them as we relaxed and chatted along one of the pub's long, wooden tables, and, despite having chugged the last third of my drink on a dare, I think I'll enjoy pub culture in the nonchalant Oxford student way instead of in the debauched Georgia student way for the rest of the trip.
Sunday was our first breather of the trip, even though we ended up walking over a lot of the city again. I cleaned up my room and read most of the morning, and by 2 or so in the afternoon Sarah, Carly, and I wandered into Summertown for coffee and groceries so that we could meet Julianne, Kao, and David in the City Centre to seek the Krispy Kreme soon thereafter. Sarah and I got to Cornmarket Street after idling in the UGA house's backyard for a bit (while she, Carly, and Zach smoked, I looked around the back fence and found a peartree! It's like the Oxford equivalent of the peachtree, since lots of streets are named after the trees but few are actually inside the city), and soon enough we had indeed found the Krispy Kreme in the castle ("Kastle"?). Their hot doughnut machine was broken, but we all enjoyed some of the baked doughnuts and didn't mind having to make plans to return for the real deal very soon.
Dinner at the UGA house was fun and crazy as we tried to cram all 30 program members/staff/families into the dining room for pasta. It took everyone to get enough chairs into the room and enough dishes washed afterwards, but it was neat to see everyone in one place. Dr. Bradshaw, the professor for one of the first seminars and the organizer of all of our tutorials for the trimester, visited and gave a very funny speech inspired by a cat he saw in the backyard. The night was pretty quiet after that, and I tried to get ahead in some of my reading for Dr. Eberle's class, but I had a bit of a scare when I apparently got stung by some insect that had wandered into the library. My ankle swelled incredibly, similar to the infamous "tater toe" incident, and I got a bit lightheaded. Even though I eventually found Gabriel, who gave me some Benadryl, I was a bit shaken. I have to be looking out for myself here! Thankfully Benadryl knocks me out pretty quickly, so I couldn't sit up and fret about it for too long.
To be continued (5:40 p.m.)...
(11:40 p.m. 9/11/07) Or not, I guess! It's been a fun but busy day--going to two seminars, reading, and of course the long walks to and from Keble--so I'll try to get in an update tomorrow afternoon. Lots of love as ever from Oxford! --Lauren
We drove another hour to see Bath, the town which houses England's only natural hot spring. Jane Austen lived in Bath for a few years, so I was ready to get a bit more into her mindframe as several of us set out for the Jane Austen Centre in a northern area of town. We could see how Bath was a fashionable social center as we walked up rows and rows of shops (including The Disney Store?), and the fancy clothes/small rooms/traffic around the residential streets made Bath for me as well as for Ms. Austen a fun place to visit but nowhere to dream of living. The Centre was pretty small, with only a few decorated rooms, a costume exhibit, and a tea room that we didn't have time to visit, but I am pretty glad that we went. The girl who gave a small talk on the Austen family's time in Bath was enthusiastic in a nerdy but cute way, so I could envision myself having a job like hers if I lived in Bath. Since we were in the neighborhood anyway, we passed through the townhomes known as The Circus and the Royal Crescent--the huge scale of the architecture was overwhelming the the best of ways, and I could have sat on the sprawling grass park in front of the Crescent just people-watching for the rest of the day.
Eventually we did amble back to the center of town, and, upon the advice of a passing group of fellow UGA students, we coughed up the 9 pounds apiece to go in the Roman Baths. Money well spent! I laughed about the balmy atmosphere around the percolating, green pool reminding me of home in Georgia, and even though we were not allowed to bathe we enjoyed taking pictures from all possible angles, listening to the fun/fact-filled tour over the "audio wands" (much cooler than their Stonehenge counterparts), and imagining what the largely unexcavated ruins must have looked like in their prime. We skittered in and out of the abbey next door before we had to return to the bus; the hodge-podge of family crests and tombstones dotting the floors and the walls of the old building made a neat contrast with the vaulted ceilings and hundreds of stained glass windows above. There even was a modern evening service going on during our tour! With what I've seen of England so far, I am constantly impressed by the attitude of renovating and reappropriating history--as weird as it might look to tour the baths with a glorified walkie-talkie, or to sit in a Victorian house typing on a computer, you can never ignore the wonderful history of this place.
We took a bit of downtime once we got back to Oxford (I had to lay down, since even sitting has aggravated what feels like an arthritic hip I've gotten from walking so much!), but then several of us decided to hunt for the elusive Turf Tavern. We found it with little difficulty, but we arrived just after they had stopped serving food at 7:30 and I split off with the group that went in search for supper. We saw a sign for "excellent food" on the side of the King's Arms, a pub on the corner of Broad Street across from the library buildings, and, having eaten two bowls of cereal earlier, I had just to sit and be jealous of my friends' "veg lasagne" and "bangers & mash." I enjoyed my cider with the best of them as we relaxed and chatted along one of the pub's long, wooden tables, and, despite having chugged the last third of my drink on a dare, I think I'll enjoy pub culture in the nonchalant Oxford student way instead of in the debauched Georgia student way for the rest of the trip.
Sunday was our first breather of the trip, even though we ended up walking over a lot of the city again. I cleaned up my room and read most of the morning, and by 2 or so in the afternoon Sarah, Carly, and I wandered into Summertown for coffee and groceries so that we could meet Julianne, Kao, and David in the City Centre to seek the Krispy Kreme soon thereafter. Sarah and I got to Cornmarket Street after idling in the UGA house's backyard for a bit (while she, Carly, and Zach smoked, I looked around the back fence and found a peartree! It's like the Oxford equivalent of the peachtree, since lots of streets are named after the trees but few are actually inside the city), and soon enough we had indeed found the Krispy Kreme in the castle ("Kastle"?). Their hot doughnut machine was broken, but we all enjoyed some of the baked doughnuts and didn't mind having to make plans to return for the real deal very soon.
Dinner at the UGA house was fun and crazy as we tried to cram all 30 program members/staff/families into the dining room for pasta. It took everyone to get enough chairs into the room and enough dishes washed afterwards, but it was neat to see everyone in one place. Dr. Bradshaw, the professor for one of the first seminars and the organizer of all of our tutorials for the trimester, visited and gave a very funny speech inspired by a cat he saw in the backyard. The night was pretty quiet after that, and I tried to get ahead in some of my reading for Dr. Eberle's class, but I had a bit of a scare when I apparently got stung by some insect that had wandered into the library. My ankle swelled incredibly, similar to the infamous "tater toe" incident, and I got a bit lightheaded. Even though I eventually found Gabriel, who gave me some Benadryl, I was a bit shaken. I have to be looking out for myself here! Thankfully Benadryl knocks me out pretty quickly, so I couldn't sit up and fret about it for too long.
To be continued (5:40 p.m.)...
(11:40 p.m. 9/11/07) Or not, I guess! It's been a fun but busy day--going to two seminars, reading, and of course the long walks to and from Keble--so I'll try to get in an update tomorrow afternoon. Lots of love as ever from Oxford! --Lauren
Friday, September 7, 2007
New Shoes
The group flight from Atlanta to London-Gatwick airport was pretty pleasant. I met about 8 of the people on the trip--Gily had the excellent idea of wearing her UGA at Oxford shirt, so I had no excuse to not sit near them and I think we all enjoyed have people to talk to during the 2.5 hours we had to wait for the plane after getting to the airport 3 hours early to be on the safe side of the long security lines. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep on the flight anyway, after two tries at 8+ hour flights this May and June, so I had resigned myself to watching the crappy inflight movies, but I soon learned that the 767 we were on, though being more cramped than I remembered, had personal TVs so we could pick our own movies! I rushed through Meet the Robinsons and Shrek 3 in my excitement. I then tried to sleep, then tried to sleep with my iPod on since I was bored, then tried to watch The Office. The lights snapped on at 1 am Georgia time (6 am England time), and I enjoyed my pre-packaged but oddly fresh/warm croissant (ah, the miracle of science) while I watched our approach to the island. I first thought "Wow, check out Ireland!", but realizing that the landmass I saw was way too narrow to be its own island/country I checked the map to see that we were flying over a bay between Wales and south England. England looks a lot like Iowa since so much of it is still organized in neat little packets of pasture and farmland, so I felt at home. But then it looked like there were no roads between all of farms! Apparently every English road has to be surrounded with bushes and trees (for privacy?), so I imagined roads where all of the neat lines of trees were.
Navigating the airport was not so pleasant. It's laid out as crappily as JFK in New York where you have to walk around in a circle almost to get to baggage claim. My knee was killing me after the cramped flight, and my carry-ons full of books already felt too heavy. Thankfully customs was very quick (I bungled my departure date a few times, but the agent must have realized it was too early to be asking anyone anything more than a yes/no questions). Baggage claim tested me a bit since my bags came out on a different belt that some of my fellow flight members and when I found them the bigger (read: 72 pound) one's handle was broken. I can't roll it properly anymore, and I found this out when I rolled over my toe and removed the top half of my toenail. I bled all the 2 hour bus ride to Oxford, but since several people had helped me with the bag crisis and since I discovered some bandaids in my backpack I felt cheery enough listening to Seu Jorge and The Shins in traffic.
Driving up Banbury Road only just prepared me for our awesome new house. We're in, apparently, the rich part of residential Oxford, surrounded by huge houses with huge gardens that must belong to some of the colleges or some of the people who named the colleges. We could tell we were home by the flaming red double doors, and inside we were treated to that wonderful "new house" smell. I am in a triple room at the front of the house (the one at the first landing), which was great yesterday because I could hardly stand dragging my bags up any more stairs and will be good for the whole stay here because of the wonderful view. I have the top bunk and the center desk in front of five bay-style windows that overlook the road; try as I might to capture this glory in a photo (which, by the way, can be found on my new photo website picasaweb.google.com/elmorelt), it is impossible to recreate. You'll just have to imagine me looking at it as I write this post. My roommates, Carly and Ashley, are both really nice (very accomodating, like me--we took a long time deciding who got which cabinets since none of us wanted to step on any toes), and we mostly filled the room to storage capacity as we unpacked.
The afternoon is a bit of a sleep-deprived blur for me at the moment. I know I set out to Summerville (a few blocks up Banbury Road from the UGA house--Oxford to Summerville is like Atlanta to "Midtown", only Summerville is LESS expensive) to get some more bandaids (or "plasters" in Britspeak), and I ended up meeting Laura and Carlye to go to Co-op for groceries (including Empire magazine!) and to this Lebanese restaurant for a cheap lunch of falafel. I stayed back a bit to get the milk that was too heavy to carry the whole way, and the evening sprawled into a weird stretch of unpacking and sitting around after I looked around a lot of campus with Sarah. Somehow I missed the boat on going to dinner with a lot of the group, but then I had time to find the two incredibly nice girls from Florida, Sara and the third Carly, to eat cereal in the amazing main kitchen (where I will probably cook tonight as soon as I can muster the strength to walk to the grocery store!). I passed out at 10 and woke up only to the sounds of Kurt banging on a pot to tell us we only had 10 minutes before we left for the tour of the Bodleian Library.
To be continued--5:20 p.m. Oxford time
7:00 p.m. Oxford time--Had to take a break, but after the last walk I can manage for the day and an awesome dinner from the grocery store of the gods (Marks & Spencer) I feel awesome.
So yeah, totally thought they were joking about wake-up today. I hadn't set my phone correctly, so the alarm went off at 9 and not 8. I have never dressed that fast in my life! It was so nice and cool out this morning, so the 20 minute walk to Broad Street was not that bad. The library, like most buildings in the college, was set behind one entryway to a quad, and we were ushered into a really severe looking room by a really nice looking lady. She explained to us that the room has been used by University government as well as British government--Parliament would occasionally be held there when things like the plague drove the court out of London. The ceilings were high and super-intricate, and family crests dotted most of the building, commemorating the nobles who donated to build the University. We didn't get a tour of the library like I expected because it took so long for all of us to get our cards and recite the Bodleian oath (to obey library rules, to not damage any books, and, most importantly, to not kindle flame in the building), but after a quick coffee break up the street we returned to take a tour of the campus.
We met our tour guide, Debbie, in the middle of a spat with a University official--some hawkish lady snapped at the folks who brought food into the *outdoor* quad, and Debbie fought with her a bit, continuing a vendetta she later said began when that lady had tried to plow into her tour group on a bicycle (the #1 weapon in Oxford, I'd say). Debbie claimed early on that she was different from most Brits ("because I have a sense of humor"), and she led a really fun, spontaneous tour through the City Centre. We saw a 300-year old tree, the beautiful chapel of Exeter College (where J. R. R. Tolkien and Philip Pullman studied), the Radcliffe Camera, and the most-exclusive All Souls College. We didn't see anyone walking on the quad behind their fence, but we were assured that, when they do, they float.
Several groups broke off to go shopping. Most peeled off to get cell phones (which Sarah and I did yesterday! So smart!), but Sarah and my roommate Carly and I went in search of bigger game. We found Gloucester Green, which is surrounded by a lot of neat-looking coffee shops and pubs, and eventually we asked someone and found Primark, a really cheap clothing and home goods store. I got towels there (yay for having to do the laundry less often, which is good because right now we can't get into the laundry shed...?), and at Boots on Cornmarket Street I loaded up on essentials (it's like Target and Ulta in one cosmetic-shopper's heaven). We looked through the edge of the covered market to get really cheap and delicious sandwiches for lunch (the one I went to was playing Paolo Nutini--old hat for Brits, I suppose, but I was enchanted), and I agonizingly trundled off the quickest route, looking for the poster shop (lame for dorm decorating, but good for souvenirs), before getting home.
Even though my legs really hurt from walking so much the past two days, I was already planning where else I wanted to go when I was walking home (yoga and video store in Summerville, for starters). I'm looking forward to having a bit of free time on Sunday to check things out, find my favorite coffee shop, etc. In retrospect, the Cannes trip was definitely a great prep for this longer stay abroad--I've gotten so self-reliant that I'm ready and willing to find the things I want to find, when I want to find them, to have fun, and I don't feel as much of the need to travel in big packs. It'll be good to have excursions, like the one we're going on tomorrow, and big classes for the first few weeks, but I can tell I'm really going to enjoy my "me time" here.
The evening's been pretty tame. Carly and I both agreed that a bit of time just to sit down was heavenly, so I took my time uploading pictures on the super fast Picasa and updating a bit of this journal before heading back out for dinner. Summerville is cheaper and, more importantly, closer than City Centre, so I got a small group to walk over to M & S to get some prepared meals. I had this awesome stuffed chicken and got some cereal for later whose ingredient label rivals the delicious Casino granola that I would eat five times a day in France. I think I'm going to grab a shower now while the house is pretty quiet--need to be ready for another early morning since we're going to Stonehenge and Bath tomorrow!
Navigating the airport was not so pleasant. It's laid out as crappily as JFK in New York where you have to walk around in a circle almost to get to baggage claim. My knee was killing me after the cramped flight, and my carry-ons full of books already felt too heavy. Thankfully customs was very quick (I bungled my departure date a few times, but the agent must have realized it was too early to be asking anyone anything more than a yes/no questions). Baggage claim tested me a bit since my bags came out on a different belt that some of my fellow flight members and when I found them the bigger (read: 72 pound) one's handle was broken. I can't roll it properly anymore, and I found this out when I rolled over my toe and removed the top half of my toenail. I bled all the 2 hour bus ride to Oxford, but since several people had helped me with the bag crisis and since I discovered some bandaids in my backpack I felt cheery enough listening to Seu Jorge and The Shins in traffic.
Driving up Banbury Road only just prepared me for our awesome new house. We're in, apparently, the rich part of residential Oxford, surrounded by huge houses with huge gardens that must belong to some of the colleges or some of the people who named the colleges. We could tell we were home by the flaming red double doors, and inside we were treated to that wonderful "new house" smell. I am in a triple room at the front of the house (the one at the first landing), which was great yesterday because I could hardly stand dragging my bags up any more stairs and will be good for the whole stay here because of the wonderful view. I have the top bunk and the center desk in front of five bay-style windows that overlook the road; try as I might to capture this glory in a photo (which, by the way, can be found on my new photo website picasaweb.google.com/elmorelt), it is impossible to recreate. You'll just have to imagine me looking at it as I write this post. My roommates, Carly and Ashley, are both really nice (very accomodating, like me--we took a long time deciding who got which cabinets since none of us wanted to step on any toes), and we mostly filled the room to storage capacity as we unpacked.
The afternoon is a bit of a sleep-deprived blur for me at the moment. I know I set out to Summerville (a few blocks up Banbury Road from the UGA house--Oxford to Summerville is like Atlanta to "Midtown", only Summerville is LESS expensive) to get some more bandaids (or "plasters" in Britspeak), and I ended up meeting Laura and Carlye to go to Co-op for groceries (including Empire magazine!) and to this Lebanese restaurant for a cheap lunch of falafel. I stayed back a bit to get the milk that was too heavy to carry the whole way, and the evening sprawled into a weird stretch of unpacking and sitting around after I looked around a lot of campus with Sarah. Somehow I missed the boat on going to dinner with a lot of the group, but then I had time to find the two incredibly nice girls from Florida, Sara and the third Carly, to eat cereal in the amazing main kitchen (where I will probably cook tonight as soon as I can muster the strength to walk to the grocery store!). I passed out at 10 and woke up only to the sounds of Kurt banging on a pot to tell us we only had 10 minutes before we left for the tour of the Bodleian Library.
To be continued--5:20 p.m. Oxford time
7:00 p.m. Oxford time--Had to take a break, but after the last walk I can manage for the day and an awesome dinner from the grocery store of the gods (Marks & Spencer) I feel awesome.
So yeah, totally thought they were joking about wake-up today. I hadn't set my phone correctly, so the alarm went off at 9 and not 8. I have never dressed that fast in my life! It was so nice and cool out this morning, so the 20 minute walk to Broad Street was not that bad. The library, like most buildings in the college, was set behind one entryway to a quad, and we were ushered into a really severe looking room by a really nice looking lady. She explained to us that the room has been used by University government as well as British government--Parliament would occasionally be held there when things like the plague drove the court out of London. The ceilings were high and super-intricate, and family crests dotted most of the building, commemorating the nobles who donated to build the University. We didn't get a tour of the library like I expected because it took so long for all of us to get our cards and recite the Bodleian oath (to obey library rules, to not damage any books, and, most importantly, to not kindle flame in the building), but after a quick coffee break up the street we returned to take a tour of the campus.
We met our tour guide, Debbie, in the middle of a spat with a University official--some hawkish lady snapped at the folks who brought food into the *outdoor* quad, and Debbie fought with her a bit, continuing a vendetta she later said began when that lady had tried to plow into her tour group on a bicycle (the #1 weapon in Oxford, I'd say). Debbie claimed early on that she was different from most Brits ("because I have a sense of humor"), and she led a really fun, spontaneous tour through the City Centre. We saw a 300-year old tree, the beautiful chapel of Exeter College (where J. R. R. Tolkien and Philip Pullman studied), the Radcliffe Camera, and the most-exclusive All Souls College. We didn't see anyone walking on the quad behind their fence, but we were assured that, when they do, they float.
Several groups broke off to go shopping. Most peeled off to get cell phones (which Sarah and I did yesterday! So smart!), but Sarah and my roommate Carly and I went in search of bigger game. We found Gloucester Green, which is surrounded by a lot of neat-looking coffee shops and pubs, and eventually we asked someone and found Primark, a really cheap clothing and home goods store. I got towels there (yay for having to do the laundry less often, which is good because right now we can't get into the laundry shed...?), and at Boots on Cornmarket Street I loaded up on essentials (it's like Target and Ulta in one cosmetic-shopper's heaven). We looked through the edge of the covered market to get really cheap and delicious sandwiches for lunch (the one I went to was playing Paolo Nutini--old hat for Brits, I suppose, but I was enchanted), and I agonizingly trundled off the quickest route, looking for the poster shop (lame for dorm decorating, but good for souvenirs), before getting home.
Even though my legs really hurt from walking so much the past two days, I was already planning where else I wanted to go when I was walking home (yoga and video store in Summerville, for starters). I'm looking forward to having a bit of free time on Sunday to check things out, find my favorite coffee shop, etc. In retrospect, the Cannes trip was definitely a great prep for this longer stay abroad--I've gotten so self-reliant that I'm ready and willing to find the things I want to find, when I want to find them, to have fun, and I don't feel as much of the need to travel in big packs. It'll be good to have excursions, like the one we're going on tomorrow, and big classes for the first few weeks, but I can tell I'm really going to enjoy my "me time" here.
The evening's been pretty tame. Carly and I both agreed that a bit of time just to sit down was heavenly, so I took my time uploading pictures on the super fast Picasa and updating a bit of this journal before heading back out for dinner. Summerville is cheaper and, more importantly, closer than City Centre, so I got a small group to walk over to M & S to get some prepared meals. I had this awesome stuffed chicken and got some cereal for later whose ingredient label rivals the delicious Casino granola that I would eat five times a day in France. I think I'm going to grab a shower now while the house is pretty quiet--need to be ready for another early morning since we're going to Stonehenge and Bath tomorrow!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)