Oxford
We arrived in Oxford two days ago by train from London. My oh so intelligent mother was invited here to give a speech on Reading Comprehension, which is why we came to England in the first place. Oxford is the oldest University in the world, not to mention one of the most famous and distinguished . Simply walking around the on the old cobble stone streets, and passing by the walls of countless years of history, you somehow instantly feel smarter, simply by being here. As we sat around a very long table last night for dinner (30 chairs long), in a dining hall that was lit by candles (think Harry Potter), with an enormous oil portrait of the original President of Oxford hanging on the 70 foot wall near the head of the table (imagine a very tall serious looking man in long black grim reaperesque cape with a staff and a red barrette), it was agreed by all that our IQ’s had undoubtly increased even over the time from our first course to dessert!
The beauty of this place is of course all of the history and ornate buildings, but more than that it is how there is still an air of old time academia even in the present modern age. There are old bikes everywhere, no one walks around with a cell phone attached to their ear, old leather messenger bags and brief cases outnumber back packs. People carrying books tucked under the arm are more common than those with computers. It’s refreshing to see that such a historic place has managed to hold on to its roots and traditions despite the rapidly increasing modern world just outside (regretfully, I type this from a Starbucks on the outskirts of campus…it was the free WI-FI that sucked me in against my will!).
Because of my mother’s connections to the University here, we have been very lucky to get quite an intimate view of Oxford, one that you would never get if you were simply a visitor here. We have been put up in “guest professor housing” which is located right on campus in the St. John’s college (one of 30 colleges all comprising the U of Oxford). St. John’s college is 451 years old, which makes for a very magical and medieval setting. To get from building to building you pass though very narrow archways that lead to open courtyards with yards manicured beyond perfection. I am led to believe that even their gardeners and landscapers are graduates of Oxford. How else could they attain such perfection?!
Similarly to London there is an overwhelming international flare to the place. Foreign languages almost outnumber English. As I sat at a café reading yesterday I was surrounded by a group of three loud Frenchmen on my left, and four giggling German girls on my right. The person I ordered my Coffee from was Scottish, the man who brought it was Indian. The bartender who gave me water was South African, and his friend who sat at the bar was from Israel. If you count me in the mix as American, we have seven different nationalities represented in the short span of five minutes!
Tomorrow morning we will get up before the sun to return to Heathrow Airport and hop a plane to Florence. With any luck, I will next be writing from the terrace of our Tuscan villa, over looking the rolling hills dotted with Cyprus trees and endless rows of grape vines. With even more luck, there will be a glass of red wine in my hand and fresh pasta in my belly!
Trafalgar Square
Among the many things we did today was a visit to Trafalgar Square. You may not be familiar with Trafalgar Square by name, but if I told you that it was the place in Mary Poppins where they “feed the birds, tupins a bag” you might have a better idea of what I’m talking about.
There are two very famous museums right on Trafalgar Square. The first is The National Galery, the second is The National Portrait Galery. Both are truely amazing with art collections, not to mention the buildings that house them, which will blow your mind. I was most impressed by a photography collection in the National Portrait Gallery called “Faces of Fashion.” It featured six very famous fashion photographers and their best portrait work. It was beautiful and inspiring.
After the National Portrait Gallery we moved onto the National Gallery which contains the works of famous painters from Renoir to Monet. This captivated my mom for hours, while I made my way through it rather quickly, then found myself capitvated by the scene in Trafalgar Square just outside.
There are thousands, which is an underestimation, of birds in the square. You cannot walk through this place without one attempting to land on your head. It is pure joy for children, and pure terror for some adults (particularily women in high heels I noticed). There are a few people who make their living off of these birds, giving away “bird food” (which was popcorn) for tips. I spent about an hour here taking pictures of the kids with birds on their heads, hands, arms, all squeeling with joy. Then, naturally, it was my turn to get a picture taken covered in birds.
A small Indian man walked up to me and said, “These birds are all famous you know. Every one of them. They were all in that movie, Mary Poppins. Now everyone wants a picture with them because they’re famous. It’s free if you want me to put one on your head.”
Soon my head was covered in “bird food” (remeber, popcorn), and my arms in birds.
London
I arrived yesterday morning in London, slightly jet lagged and longing for a coffee. As we walked out of the airport we were greeted by surprisingly perfect weather and a bright pink taxi waiting to take us to our hotel. Pink taxi, good start.
After a taxi ride that was equivalent in cost to my budget for a month in Thailand we found ourselves in the heart of London and set off for a tour of the Sunday markets with our personal tour guide Nick. Nick is a very tall friend of mine from college who now lives in London. He is the perfect tour guide becuase not only does he know his way around the “off the beaten path sights” (which is what I am after), but if you ever find yourself lost, you simply look straight up and see this man rising an extra 2 feet out of the endless sea of people.
The markets were full of so much energy and diversity. The items for sale were far less interesting than the people wandering around. We walked through maze after maze of stands selling everything from Etheopian coffee to things that apeared to come out of grandma’s closet. In many cases, you didn’t even need a stand to be a vendor. A simple sheet layed out on the floor with some old crap you no longer wanted would do the job.
After hours of market wandering the sun began to fall in the sky and we made our way down to the river for the sunset and beers on the London bridge.
Thousands of tourists all attempted to capture the perfect picture of the bridge in the late day light, while I attempted to capture the perfect picture of the thousand tourists.
On our way to dinner, walking through a beautiful mideval tunnel along the South Bank, we came across what I thought was was the best thing I had seen all day. It was not Big Ben, or the bridge, or the London Tower. It was a very small piece of art that hundreds of people pass by every second without ever knowing it’s there. Stenciled on a perfect brick wall in black spray paint it says “All in all, you’re just another brick in the wall….”
We had a great Asian dinner at some place called Wakamama, which is really fun to say over and over and over again until you’re laughing too hard to get the words out. As I walked home along the Thames which was now beautifully reflecting the city lights my mind was stuck on one thought: all I have to do for the next three months is wander around and take it all in. It felt so good. I think I could do this forever…..
