Time Out

So I hope to update this more fully and extensively after break is over, but here is a slight overview of what is happening in this three week break I am not in the USA.

1. Go to Scotland: Edinburgh, Inverness, Glasgow

2. England: Meet Mum and brother in London, then spend a day in Oxford, the London again

3. Italy: Spend Christmas in Rome, then Florence followed by Venice

4. Say goodbye to Mum and brother in Venice, who are flying back to the US. 

5. Spend a few more nights in Venice, waiting for the New Year to ring itself in, cause I will probably be doing a terrible job by myself in a hostel. 

6. Go to Vienna, spend a few days making myself broke and wishing Tristan was with me so I could understand German.

7. Go to Berlin for a few days, the cheapest reservations I've made yet, and hope I can make it a few more days. 

8. Fly Ryan Air for the first time from Berlin to London, catch a bus back to Oxford and arrive at my house with every other newcomer and returner, only probably a little bit poorer and dirtier. And probably without my luggage too, since it will still be in my previous residence. 

 

Fairy Tales and Happily Ever Afters

The term is nearing its end. Thursday morning at 11 my final essay is due: 4,000 words on the relationship between evil and beauty in fantasy novels and fairy tales. Tutorials ended last week so I've been able to devote much of the past 7 days to research. But really, I've been a little preoccupied with my upcoming break. 

Thursday afternoon we are throwing a gigantic Christmas Morning party to celebrate the completion of our academic term. We will carol and have a White Elephant gift exchange and watch It's A Wonderful Life (a movie I am none too fond of and might just nap through instead). The Friday morning my house is having another Christmas Morning and then its hectic packing time! I'm checking out and saying goodbye Friday afternoon then taking a coach into London and then on to Scotland. 

My room is in tatters and I have books strewn everywhere. This last essay will be tough to write but I'm consoled by the fact that on all three floors beneath me, 20 others are doing the same. I'm not ready yet to say goodbye, but already I'm looking forward to a wandering break and the beginning of a new term. 

It's An Ethnic Holiday Now

Real Thanksgiving- America. A place where there is a holiday that pretends to be celebrating thanks, but really is all about food. Well that holiday doesn't exist in England. So what in the world are 23 college students, many of whom have never had a Thanksgiving away from their family before, to do? 

Make Mexican food, of course!!

Those of us who had little to do, or at least a bad enough work ethic to pretend like there weren't better things we could be doing, spent much of the afternoon cooking. I made about 20 homemade tortillas that I turned into chips and four homemade salsas. The rest of the house joined in the cooking process later that night. And it was a glorious mess of people, food and smells as every single person in the house managed to walk into and out of the kitchen. When everything was finally prepared and ready to go we piled into the common room, buffet style and gorged ourselves. There was rice and beans, enchiladas, limeade, flan, guacamole and more. I definitely managed to stuff myself and I saw a few others lying around the floor later. 

Yet somehow I still managed to make Mexican Spiced Hot Chocolate (I'll give you my made up recipe if you're adventurous and want to try it) for us to drink while we watched the first Christmas movie of the season. 

Fake Thanksgiving- Friday afternoon I spent a good 9 hours at the other house of students, making 4 turkeys with no recipes. It was amazing. I cut off fat, took out the necks, buttered under their skin, etc. Everything. The ovens here are a lot smaller than those in the states, so the actual cooking of the turkeys was a little haphazard. But after a lot of basting and checking and rotating, they were done. 

Saturday: I helped make pounds of mashed potatoes before reheating the turkeys. Eventually everybody's food was done, appetizers were over and the feasting could begin. I had roped a few young men into carving the turkeys for me and a few more to set up another long buffet table. Did I mention there were about 75 people at this Thanksgiving? Or that I was in charge of seeing the whole thing put together? No? Oh, well in that case. . . 

Just kidding- everything went off without much of a hitch. We almost ran out of plates but thankfully someone managed to steal a few back out of people's rooms. All the food was absolutely amazing- sweet potatoes with marshmallows, ambrosia salad, and definitely the turkey. 

When all the dishes had been washed and put away by some very generous helpers we had an open mic night. It's amazing how one can sit in a room of people who are obviously really smart and witness their other brilliant talents first hand. After that it was time for another Christmas movie!

The holiday season has begun! We've already decorated our house with paper snowflakes and little fake tree. We even made red and green frosting to go on the homemade sugar cookies for the occasion. There was also apple cider and a rather short lived attempt at lining our windows with lights. The best part is probably our tree's angel, however: Blue construction paper cone body, green construction paper wings, foil arms holding a fishing rod with a foil star at the end, yellow paper head with foil halo. And a Tina Fey as Sarah Palin picture pasted onto it's face. 

Hallelujah!

Last Sunday the priest of my now regular church announced that Keble college was performing Handel's Messiah this Friday, and that any one who wanted to could show up and be a part. 

Well today at 5 two of my friends and I entered the most beautiful chapel and took our places in the rag-tag choir. Some of the others singing had obviously been a part of a regular choir but a lot of us had just heard about it in one way or another and simply shown up. There was also a very small orchestra that had also been practicing. 

We spent about 40 minutes sight-reading the music and 'practicing.' Then we took a break while the people coming to hear us filed in. There must have been at least 50 people in the audience. When the time came we rose and sat, listened to the soloists and sang. That's right. After less than an hour of practice a slapdash choir sang a wonderful rendition of a powerful song. It was amazing. It was difficult but not nerve-wracking; exhilarating and fun; and joyous. The arrangement lasted only about 35 minutes and then we were done, free to go back to our normal, everyday lives. 

But for those 35 minutes I was a part of something much larger. I was a living, participating part of an Oxford Choir Performance. 

The Joy of Scrumping

A house on the corner; under construction and with 24 hour security signs posted all around the walls. An apple tree; burdened with rosy red fruit, covered in ivy and going to waste in the backyard of said house. Two weeks of walking past said house, coveting those apples falling to ground with no one to eat them, no one to enjoy them. Enter temptation; I want those apples, I want to climb that wall and pick those apples. Begin forming a plan. 

The night finally falls. A crack team of five is assembled: the leader, ready to risk all to go over the wall and dressed in black underarmor and carrying a black backpack in which to stash the spoils; the henchmen, also dressed in black and willing to breach the wall as well; and three stooges, playing distraction and lookout roles. 

The team sets out and when the coast is finally clear, I hop the wall. Hiding behind the portapotty I watch the house, anxious for any sign of a security guard. When my companion joins me we make a dash over the muddy ground to the lone apple tree. She climbs in first and begins handing apples down. A few minutes in we switch places and I, with the longer reach, start picking the larger fruits and passing them on. A tense moment; a slow moving mini-van passes by; I duck and hold my breath, hoping to be hidden by the sparse branches. Twenty apples later we hop down and run back to the wall. We can hear the stooges still playing at their games. There has been no other cause for alarm, so we break cover for a moment and lob a few rotten apples over the wall at our companions. We listen as the splat the pavement and then scurry over ourselves, my backpack heavy with forbidden fruits. 

It's hard not to run back; adrenaline is coursing through all our veins. I am proud; I am satisfied. Those apples that have haunted me four times a day are now mine. 

Enter the kitchen; emptying the backpack we see just how big some of these apples are. How did they not fall off the branch, as large and ruby as they were? We taste; sweet, pure white flesh. 

A job well done. 

And that- is scrumping. Stealing fruit from someone else's trees. 

Picture Book Post

Elizabeth, Abby and Heather in Hyde Park on my birthday. This is right next to the Peter Pan statue. 

The 21 year old me with my chocolate and champagne! 

Reeeeal early in the morning waiting for our bus into Oxford. 

My birthday surprise I found waiting in the kitchen!!

Halloween- I was the White Witch from Narnia. Here I am offering Keaton, as Van Gogh, a piece of Turkish Delight. 

T.J. the Lumberjack and Jonathan. As Audrey Hepburn. Hmmmm. 

I carved this! It reminded me of being little and spreading out all over the kitchen floor. My style hasn't changed much since then...

Finally!!! Here is my room- Number 3, Floor 2. 

Again. It has never been this clean. Not even since the day I moved in, but we had someone inspecting the house today, so here it is: all nice AND vacuumed. 

Remember, Remember, the fifth of November: Our paper effigy of Guy Fawkes alight in our front yard. 

Belated Present!!!

SNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes. I walked out of a supermarket today to find those fluffy little white pieces of heaven falling. I could feel my face break into a HUGE smile. It was the greatest present ever. 

Speaking of which, here are a few things I have gotten for myself in the past few days with the birthday money people have been giving me. (Thanks, everyone!!)

Yesterday I went and got a new pair of running shoes. I know. What? I don't run. But I would like to start. There is a park a block from my house and so many other people in my house run there. I'm already walking more than I ever have in my life, why not run as well? And because the store I got them in is going out of business so everything was ridiculously cheap, I got a pair of sweatpants to run in as well. So far, only the sweatpants have been used and that was to sleep in. Good intentions, people. Good intentions. 

Another great purchase on my account was lunch yesterday. I finally tried Oxford's Mexican Food. The name of the place is The Mission. And not only do the use the same set-up as Chipotle, but the same font as well. Unfortunately it does not taste too much like Chipotle. That isn't to say it wasn't still very good as far as British Mexican food standards go. But their chicken wasn't just chicken; it had so many onions mixed into it that I was in desperate need of gum by the time I finished.  

Today after a great tutorial spent discussing The Chronicles of Narnia, I bought myself three books. It came very close to being four, but my practicality caught the better of me and I decided I couldn't justify sending one more book home at the end of term. I could justify, however, a sketch book and some coloured pencils. 

But really, getting snow was exactly what I asked for, what I had wished for and prayed for. It has since stopped, and was not sticking to anything as it fell, but nonetheless, there were millions of snowflakes. Brilliant. 

21 in 21

For my birthday I rounded up a few friends and we went to conquer London for a day. This is our adventure, in a nutshell. 

1. A great card and a small Toblerone chocolate from my Gordon friends: The card is currently on my wall. The chocolate, however, we devoured on the coach ride into London. 

2. Roasted Chestnuts: I had never had these before, and since it was a day of 'firsts', I thought it worth the 1.50 to try them. Three of us went in on them. After a little trouble figuring out exactly how to eat them, we finally managed to polish off the paper bag. They were different; slightly sweet with an almost potato-like consistency. 

3. Piccadilly Market: After buying half-price tickets to a show, we started a slow, meandering walk to Hyde and Kensington parks. On the way we stopped at a little open air market near Piccadilly. There was a lot of jewelry and art, some of which was good, and some of which was just terrible. I bought a wooden ring that halfway through the night cracked and chipped, which was very disappointing. I should have gone with the ivory one. . .

4. La Maison Du Chocolat: Since all the people with me were girls, we were naturally drawn to the store claiming to be The House of Chocolate. After a quick peek around and wishing we could drown in some of the pieces they concocted, we decided to put together a little bag of truffles and ganache for ourselves. The pieces had names like: Othello (honey infused), Romeo (coffee mousse), Bacchus (rum blazed raisins) and Yoko (tea infused). 

5. On the Hunt: Now, although the drinking age in England is 18, and I had already consumed alcohol, a 21st birthday for an American is just not a 21st without some sort of drink. The plan had been to picnic in the park, but we got into London late and so had already eaten our lunches, so the new plan was to find some Champagne and drink it with our chocolates in the park. Unfortunately, the walk from where we had been to the parks was along the most fashionable road in London, an unlikely place to find cheap bottles of anything. We finally make it to a market and promptly buy the cheapest, and rather large, bottle of Champagne we can find. 

6. Peter Pan: The destination of Hyde/Kensington Park was chosen because it houses the famous statue of Peter Pan. I love Peter Pan, and detest the idea of having to grow up and be a responsible, working adult. So it seemed fitting that on the day I turned 21, the day I finally pass wholly and completely into adulthood, I should visit the everlasting child, Peter Pan. 

7. The 'Picnic': We walked a little ways past the statue and found a nice, protective tree to sit under. We pulled out the bottle of Champagne and, for the first time in my life, I legally popped off a cork. Then we all proceeded to sit on a rather unforgiving and slightly prickly ground and drink champagne and eat gourmet chocolate. It was a very simple, very wonderful way to celebrate. I'm very thankful for the friends who chose, like me, to ignore the pressing deadlines and celebrate instead. 

8. A New Scarf: After leaving the park and taking the underground back to the West End we wander China Town for a while. One little store had very cheap scarves outside, to the tune of 2/3 for 5 pounds. Elizabeth and I both found blue ones we wanted and did not hesitate to buy them, since I had not already spent enough money on myself for my birthday. Blue was one of the colors I was missing though, and it is in a style very popular at the moment but which I did not yet own. (This now brings my total scarf count to 13.)

9. Zorro- The Musical: When we bought tickets that afternoon there were only a few shows left still at half price. So it came down to either Zorro or Sound of Music. If ever given a choice between something you are familiar with or something completely random and mysterious, go with random and mysterious. We managed to get 4 seats next to each other in the 12th row, center, of the theater. Right away we knew it was going to be a fantastic show; the stage had wooden ladders on both sides, a rope ladder on one, various other ropes hung around, and a black and red slashed curtain. 

10. Zorro-cont'd: Within the first two minutes of the show was singing, flamenco dancing and fire. How could that not foreshadow a great time? As it turned out, the dancing and fire would be joined by spanish guitar and swordfighting as the best aspects of the entire musical. The script desperately needed work and some of the songs were just beyond ridiculous. 

11. Zorro- still: The actors were fairly decent, but one character in particular was just fantastic. She was a gypsy and while leaving the theater we were wondering how we could become gypsies as well. Not only were the skirts great, but their flamenco heels in bright colors and be-flowered hair were just amazing. Then we decided that a salsa outing was much needed, so we could stomp around and wave our skirts in the hopes of imitating the dancers. 

12. Zorro-again: By the end of the play as the actors were receiving their ovations, we were all dying of laughter and riotously happy for having chosen well what show to see. I would definitely recommend seeing it if you can get half-price tickets. It would make a great melodrama, and would probably be improved by it, but the two best songs by the main heroine were serious and would have no real place in a melodrama. I certainly had a great time though, making my birthday just that much better. 

13. Theater: British theaters are so unlike American ones. They serve alcohol before the play starts as well as during intermission. You can drink and eat during the play as long as you do it quietly. We broke out the little bit of champagne we had left, surreptitiously concealed in a water bottle, at intermission. This was accompanied by a few chocolate digestives and caramel squares to the great satisfaction of all. 

14. Cheap Chinese Buffet: Since we hadn't had any dinner and sugar isn't very filling, we headed back into Chinatown after the show. We ducked into a small restaurant we had passed on the way in and decided to stop. It was an all-you-can-eat for 4.95. It smelled like sanitizer and greasy food. But that's half the fun, right? The food was alright, nothing special and pretty much what you ask for when you're paying under 5 pounds. Most of the meat dishes were heavily supplemented by onions and my chicken wing still had a few residual feathers sticking out of it. 

15. Coach: The walk back to the bus station was eerie; there were very few people on the roads and it was very dark. It wasn't unsafe, but it felt a little surreal being in London yet not surrounded by masses of people. When we finally made it back to the bus station we plopped ourselves onto a stone bench and started waiting. The buses run continually between London and Oxford, but not on a set schedule. Luckily we were only there for about 30 min before our coach arrived. 

16. Home Again: The ride was spent mostly fast asleep- the dead kind, where you wake up feeling like lead and with gooey eyes. The walk back to Crick from the station was more refreshing though. It was misting and cold but the leaves we shuffled through made it worth it. 

17. Notes: When we got to the front door there was a little sign for me, duct-taped and telling me to go into the kitchen. As I walked up the hallway there were more, telling me I was getting closer. When I arrived in the kitchen there were-

18. CHOCOLATE COVERED STRAWBERRIES!!! One of my most favorite things in the whole world and something we had been discussing earlier that day (in conjunction with the champagne). And...

19. Snickerdoodles! 

20. I went to bed completely content and totally wiped. It had been a fantastic day, a great day of celebration and I am so thankful for all my friends! I checked my facebook before finally falling into bed and saw that tons of people had wished me a happy birthday! My one wish didn't come true though, but that was to be expected. (It was for snow...)

21. Feels a lot like 20. I can't wait to get home and celebrate with all my other friends though. But I think I'll hold on to my Peter Pan dreams a little bit longer.  

Reminiscing About Lazier Times

This is the ridge we hiked along on Helvellyn, looking back on it after crossing. It was quite fun getting to scramble at will over all the tiny juttings and mini-chasms. 

Just a picturesque landscape on our hike around Derwent, I believe. Keswick, the town we stayed in, is just down in that valley and off to the left a bit. 

Derwent Water. 

I found Snow White and her evil Step (Drag)Queen in the ruins of Kenilworth Castle. Christye, aka Snow White, actually picked that apple on the grounds. It was crisp and delicious. And not poisonous. 

A little more of Kenilworth. 

I am Fall's Child

I love fall. It is my favorite season in Colorado and Massachusetts. And now I can add Oxford to the list. The trees are dropping their leaves, most of which are bigger than my hand. Carpets of an earthy orange line every gutter and cushion every corner. I made sure to drag my feet through them this morning on my way to tutorial. The ivy that creeps over the majority of the buildings here is also turning. 

I think the colors here, especially the warmer ones, are more vibrant. Maybe it is because they are in constant contrast to the greyer skies. I am just in love with the brick reds with the slow spreading green moss contrasting, with the million different shades of clouds an overcast sky can have, with the grass that even now is a truer green than Colorado grass in summer and with the rosy apples I eat everyday. 

In fact, I am going to go to the grocery store today and pick up some apple juice so I can make apple cider for the house. It is a perfect day for it- the wind is blowing and a slight drizzle just started falling. If only our house had a fireplace we could actually make a fire in. How fantastic does that sound? A mug of apple cider in one hand, a book in the other, a fire in front of you, a blanket wrapped around you and God's creation whirling outside your window in the most magnificently costumed show. 

First Week

Today marks the end of my first week of a real Oxford term, appropriately labeled "First Week." (Next week will officially be "2nd Week" and so forth.) It's confusing when things actually refer to the weeks like that and not by the dates themselves, since it is very easy to lose track of the abstract idea of a numbered week than an actually impending date. 

This week I started my tutorials, which turned out to be much less intimidating than I had assumed. On Mondays I have Creative Writing at Wolfson College, which is a short 10 minute walk from my house. Once there I make my way to a small room consisting of two lounging chairs and a small desk with chair. The windows are quite large and between two edges of building I get a glimpse of the college's quad. Mostly though I get a full view into someone's office, which can get quite awkward if they realize they have the same view of you. I then spend the next 50 minutes reading my own stories aloud to my tutor and having her tell me what I need to work on. My focus for the 4 weeks we meet will be fairy tales, culminating in a finished fairy tale of my own composition as a final project. It hardly seems fair to the other students that my homework consists of reading Hans Christian Andersen and The Grimm Brothers and writing about strange forests while they are all stuck with philosophers and historians. 

On Tuesdays I begin my day with a tutorial on C.S. Lewis. My tutor for this one is amazing; I love her already and hope to somehow forge an actual relationship with her. She is very nice, very welcoming and very understanding. The majority of our tutorial consisted of discussing Lewis, Tolkien, and Pullman, and deploring boring allegories such as The Pilgrim's Progress. The purpose of tutorials is to have a discussion, and I feel like that might actually be achievable with her. She is also my Long Essay advisor, so most of my guidance this term will be under her and on subjects concerning Lewis and fantasy. 

After my tutorial I have an hour or so to kill before my first lecture. Lectures are very different for us here than they are in America. We get to choose whatever lectures suit our area of study and that best compliment our tutorials. There are no tests or quizzes, so it is entirely for our own enlightenment we go. This makes them infinitely more enjoyable, not having any pressure attached. We each go to four sets of lectures. Mine are: Intro. to English Lit, Medieval Literary Theory, Spenser's Poetry and Prose, and Victorian Literature/Ideas. All the professors are brilliant are definitely more engaging than most, even when they are reading straight from an outline. 

When I'm not going to lectures or tutorials I am either in the library reading for the next week or finding multiple distractions to keep me otherwise occupied. I spent a few hours yesterday in the park, writing and then enjoying some wine with another group of American students. 

Quotidian Oxford

Interesting pieces about my life here in Oxford. I'll be keeping this one updated as I learn more and more about my fascinating city (and surrounding country). 

1. Oxford Time: Oxford is situated west of the Greenwich Meridian by 5 minutes. Many of the bells, and some professors, set their timetables by this fact. Although this causes the chimes to ring at 5 past it is not recommended to assume that lectures will begin similarly. 

2. The Pasty: Pronounced 'pass-tee.' Warm goodness wrapped in a flaky dough that seems light but is really rather sturdy and filling. There is a cheap shop right across from our offices that almost always has a line and is already frequented by our students. I had my first one, a delightful mushroom/onion/cheese mixture, on Tuesday. I will definitely be going there again. And again. 

3. Flapjacks: Not at all what an American would automatically think of but my absolute new favorite thing in the entire world of . . . dessert. Flapjacks are little bars of oatmeal, butter, sugar, etc. and can masquerade almost as a granola bar but with very little pretense as to actually be healthy for you. My goal for the year is to come back to the states with a perfected recipe. (Right now the trial count is 5, of which I cannot rightfully take credit, as Jonathan did all the work while I wrote my papers. But it was my idea.)

4. The Fire Alarm: If the fire alarm in Crick does not go off at least once a week, then the world has turned upside down and hell frozen over. The detector in the kitchen is not for smoke, but heat. And it is positioned at the top of the very high ceiling, where all the heat collects. So when you have a large number of people collecting in the kitchen to hang out and some of those people are cooking, the chances of the kitchen "overheating" are very large. This is not even including the various shortages the number of appliances we have plugged in, which has been the reason for two or three of the alarm episodes. It has, in fact, gotten to the point that when the alarm sounds, nothing happens. People stay put exactly where they are just sigh or complain about the noise, knowing that someone will be turning the alarm off presently. 

Endless Possibilities

Oxford is alive and bustling with the students who have trickled in over the weekend. It came as a surprise on Wednesday when I was walking down the street and suddenly realized that no, it wasn't a weekend shopping day for tourists, but merely an afternoon in a University town of no meagre size. I still am finding it hard to believe that I get to be a part of this; I am an Oxford student. Today was Fresher's Fair, an amalgamation of every possible activity the university has to offer crammed into one building. Each booth was encroaching upon the others' space and yet doing a good job of ignoring the fact. I was verbally accosted a few times by overly enthusiastic members and discovered just how bad I am at asking the kind of questions that provide pertinent information. I think I signed myself up for an overwhelming amount of clubs, but only a few with the intent of actually attending. One of them was a climbing club I might try and boulder with on occasion. One free coffee, free pizza, free mug and a tree's worth of paper flyers later, I sat at my desk to begin work for my tutorials. 

Tutorials are beginning next week and I am excited. My C.S. Lewis tutorial sounds difficult, but I love the fact that it is merely an excuse for me to read his works and the works that influenced him. Maybe someday someone will be reading him because he influenced my writing. Which brings me to my other tutorial, creative writing. My tutor said I will be writing around 1000 words a week with a finished story as my final project. I already have an idea in mind and just hope it will be possible to put onto paper. I think I will be spending a lot of time in a coffee shop, pen and notebook in hand with Lewis waiting on the sidelines to inspire or distract. 

Another distraction I recently discovered is Primark, a very cheap clothes store in our mall. A group of us went yesterday and had a wonderful time being normal girls and college students. I bought two rather similar striped sweaters, accidently, but that should be good for layering. I also bought an awesome pair of black boots. They are pirate boots, tall, slouchy suede, with a leather tied fold at the very top. I also got a hilarious pair of shorter boots in a sort of checkered pattern that I can't wait to wear. It's hard to wear only a few outfits for a month without getting antsy for new ones, so I feel justified in my cheap, new purchases. Although now I'm going to want a new sweater every week. If you want to contribute to the 'dress Lizzie in a British wardrobe' fund, I'll be happy to accept donations. :-)

The Lake District

Friday morning dawned without having seen the underside of my covers. Two papers lay on the kitchen table, for the most part finished, but unedited. Flapjack crumbs, a coffee mug, 7 books, a laptop and a notebook were strewn over almost half the table. It was 6.30 am; but the papers were done and soon to be on their way to be marked, and I was on my way to the Lake District. I threw together two backpacks full of clothes and books and waiting for 8.30 to roll around. It finally did and with it came a British 15 passenger van. 

This van looked comfy enough from the outside, but each seat was like a rock. The headrests were too high for any normal-sized person and angled forward, causing those of us of average height to either sit with our necks either slightly forward or scrunched down so as to be relatively upright. Yet after an all nighter sleep was the only thing on our minds. So sleep we did, awkwardly as it was, and woke up almost as nonplussed as if we had just stayed awake. 

The first stop on our trip was Kenilworth Castle. This massive ruin of red stone used to be the palace of Robert Dudley, 'lover' of Queen Elizabeth I. It was wrecked during the civil war and was never rebuilt. It was beautiful though, with great open areas of grass that had once been the halls of the aristocracy. The wind was on full-blast however, and promptly froze our hands, urging us to move on. 

We re-boarded the now dreaded vans to continue our journey. A few more hours and a gradually increasing lumpy landscape later we arrive in Keswick. Keswick is a small town in the Lake District chock-full of B&B's and sports-wear shops. The main stretch was very quaint and the surrounding countryside just gorgeous. It is very hilly and there are a few 'mountains,' which a friend and I re-dubbed 'hillmounts,' to reflect their status a little better. 

After a relaxing night enjoying each other's company and a real bed rather than a cold window, we wake up to the best showers since arriving in England. The water pressure is almost too high and the water a constant temperature of steamy warmth. A few of us from my house met for coffee and ended up with the beginning of "Cake Day." We found a cute little bakery with all manners of sugary, buttery goodness and decided to bring a few back to the house to enjoy. A few cups of coffee and tea later, we all take naps. 

The rain we had trudged through that morning was still going when we piled back into the vans to go see Wordsworth's most inspirational dwelling, Dove Cottage. It is a small, dark place on the inside and bright and cheery on the outside, despite the continuous drenching. There was a planned hike afterwards which I skipped on the grounds of keeping my camera dry and myself pneumonia free. Those who did go came back completely soaked yet with stories of how awesome the flooded trails were. I opted for another nap and felt completely satisfied with my decision. 

After another night of good food and good company it is Sunday morning, appropriately sunny and warm. We attend an Anglican service and then retire back to the houses for lunch and. . .naps. Then it is time for a ferry ride across the lake and a quick walk through the country and back to town. Well, the ferry ride was quick, but the walk was not. It turns out it was really a hike of 7 miles and a few hours. But it was beautiful; there were sheep and a waterfall, stone cottages and emerald glens. It was also a good warm-up round for the next day.

I woke up early on Monday morning to join 6 other people for a hike up the third tallest peak in Britain, Helvellyn. This post would be even longer if I went into the type of detail needed to describe my experience hiking. So let me just say that it was amazing, stunning, heart warming and wrenching, rejuvenating, a test of endurance, windy, gorgeous and the best use of a vacation day I have ever had. There is no option on the top of a mountain but to feel absolutely alive and blessed by nature and God. I wasn't as sore as I thought I was going to be, thanks to the hike the day before, the Dorchester hike the week before, the everyday Oxford walking and a summer of climbing. 

We left Tuesday morning on the terrible buses and adjusted a little better to sleeping on this time. The weekend wasn't as restful as I thought it was going to be, but was certainly wonderful and worth it. (Pictures may or may not be following.)

Nonsequential Moments

This is my house: 8 Crick Road, Oxford. 

Hampton Court Palace as seen through one of the garden hedges. There are a lot of chimneys and that is only a very small portion of the roof. 

Tea and scones at Dorchester Abbey after a beautiful fall day spent roaming the countryside. 

A little piece of fantasy in that countryside. 
Jonathan expertly surveying said countryside. That is the Thames flowing in the distance. 

Dorchester Abbey and adjoining cemetery. 

Inside the Abbey. 

Rolling my eyes at Keaton for taking about 5 identical pictures when I somewhat foolishly lend him my camera in Bath. 
Making trouble in Bath or, amusing ourselves because the buildings aren't doing the trick. 
Mimicking Jane Austen outside of her little museum in Bath; misplaced because she hated it there. I empathize. 

A Grand View

Every day I spend in Oxford I fall in love a little bit more. 

Every hour I spend sitting in the reading rooms of the Bodleian Library the more I wish I had. Especially when the sun is streaming through the windows, illuminating the small stained glass pictures set within. Looking out of them I can see patina laden domes and delicate stone spires. Above me are portraits of great men and scholars, keeping watch over those who follow their footsteps. At my fingertips are every book ever published in the UK since the 1600's. It is amazing that I get to spend my time in so hallowed a place. 

Another room adjoining the library is called the Lower Camera. It is one of the most beautiful rooms I have ever been in and I get to spend the majority of my time this year in that very place. It is a round building with vaulted ceilings and old wooden desks; it looks like something out of a movie. The only problem is that the huge arched windows complete with wrought iron decoration and stone arches cause it to be  bit chill. I was so distracted from my reading the other day because my hands were so cold I had to leave, causing very little actual work to get done. 

I've also been doing a lot of city exploration and coffee shop hopping in the past few days. I want to have an amazing feel for this city before I leave. I visited a hole-in-the-ceiling coffee shop that I had been recommended to and loved it. The walls are all a shocking pink and the windows are lined in an indigo. It too, was cold, so I didn't get to spend a decent amount of time there. I think fall has officially arrived here. The weather has been threatening to turn nasty again, drizzling a little every day. Today I discovered an outdoor market with amazing deals. The fruit and vegetables were all so fresh and beautiful I ended up buying a ridiculous assortment: apples, peppers, garlic, carrots, peaches and tomatoes all for under 6 pounds. 

In other news, I was elected President of the Junior Common Room today. The JCR is our version of student government minus anything political. Basically we just plan outings and activities for the rest of the crew. I've already got a list of ideas and a strong committee behind me, so it's going to be a fun semester! 

Tomorrow is another field trip and then the rest of the week will be spent in class and at the library writing my two papers due next week before our fall break, which I will be spending in The Lake District. 

London Sun

Yesterday was our first optional field trip. This means the itinerary is planned but by no means made to be stuck to. And more importantly, if we get lost, it's our own problem. 

We left Oxford early in the morning- earlier than we leave for class, in fact, on a double-decker that goes straight to London. It was a little pricey at 13.50 pounds for a two-way ticket. Once we got there we took straight off on our walking tour. Jonathan (my JD) and Simon (a program director) would let us stop at certain sites occasionally and give us a small history lesson. We rode the tube, saw a few portraits in the National Gallery, walked past the Tower of London and many other famous places. It was a whirlwind of a day and by the end of it I was hungry, tired, dehydrated but still happy. 

By far the best part of the trip, although I will admit to falling asleep during the service, was Evensong at St. Paul's cathedral. Unfortunately they don't allow any photography so I'll have to leave it up to you to google it and try and see it for yourself. The whole inside is covered in mosaics and dripping in gold. It was positively gorgeous. We were allowed to sit in the choir section, which was quite a treat. The boy's voices were almost haunting as they began the first song. It would truly be an amazing thing to go there on a regular basis. 

The great blessing of the day was that the weather was spectacular. It was mostly sunny and about 60 degrees until around 6 o'clock. I even got the opportunity to wear my sunglasses. I'm looking forward to going back to London to have a more leisurely look around. Maybe then I'll be able to take better pictures and maybe even get to experience a site or two, not just see the outside. 

Field Trip One

Was much more exciting than this post title conveys. It began with an early rise to catch our double-decker coach. This swaying mass of steel and people took us to the Salisbury plain where we saw Stonehenge, Old Sarum and Salisbury Cathedral. 

Old Sarum is an Iron Age fort on the top of a massive hill surrounded by a few formidable ditches. I thought the ruins were rather dull themselves, but the history of the place is interesting if any of you care to follow up on it. 

Salisbury Cathedral is the only cathedral in all of England to be fully built in one architectural style, which is gothic. It also holds the Guinness Record for being the tallest spire in Great Britain. The cathedral itself is spectacular and stunning, but the spire, which we got to climb into, provides an unparalleled view of the surrounding English countryside. It also holds one of the only remaining a copies of the Magna Carta. 

Stonehenge was perhaps the most looked forward to site on the trip and the most underwhelming. The stones are extremely large when considered individually, but nothing compared to some of the natural rock formations of Colorado. They are very beautiful though, and I only wish I could have walked among them. A big surprise came when we realized just how close civilization has encroached upon the ruins. A freeway runs just hundreds of feet away from the monoliths. Neighboring sheep graze right up to the fence surrounding the whole site. There was a druid protesting and gathering signatures near the tourist center who I got to meet and have my picture taken with. I have my doubts about the authenticity of his religious claim- he looked more like a Renaissance Festival attendee. He wants the ruins to be freed from the fencing so people can roam between the stones. Interesting fellow, with interesting jewelry. 

The bridge entrance and ditch fortifications into Old Sarum.

The organ in Salisbury Cathedral. The view from a window inside the cathedral spire. 

The spire itself. Yours truly at Stonehenge. 

 

A Glimpse Inside

Roast corn from the Caribbean cooking stand. 
Elizabeth and Abby enjoying some chips at the fair. 

The Union Jack flying high at the fair. 

A Fair Weather Day

I was contemplating starting a running tally of how many straight days it rained here. I had to stop at four because turned out to be rather warm and beautiful. 

Our academic semester started today with a slight orientation and a short video on early British history. I love the way classes work here. We get a coffee/tea break automatically every couple of hours or so. The classroom learning was followed by a treasure hunt (of knowledge) through the city. It would have been a nice way to see some of the main sites I had missed lately, but my group was too gung-ho about winning to be leisurely. After a good 2 hours of walking in large circles around the main city center we retired to our program's offices for another tea time. 

When I felt peopled-out enough, which happened easily enough considering the strong personalities I had in my hunting party, I wandered off by myself in search of some groceries. Unfortunately, I was low on cash and only got a few staples. Looks like I'm going again tomorrow after a trip to the ATM. 

Tonight was the St. Giles Fair, which is basically like a mini-street carnival. I took my new camera and tried it out. I got a few good pictures out of the 200-something I took; practice makes perfect so hopefully that ratio will increase. 

Tomorrow is more orientation and classes followed by Stonehenge and other various field trip sights on Thursday. 

(I'm having trouble loading pictures. I'll try again soon!)

Typical Tea and Rain

The last time we talked I was still waiting to be done with my packing. Well, I have obviously finished that by now. It was concluded fairly successfully, with both suitcases being under 50 pounds. Although I didn't leave enough room to bring stuff back in. I guess someone will just have to visit me and bring an extra one along for me. 

     Anyways, my flight wasn't too terrible. Sleeping was an adventure seeing as how I didn't get the window seat I was hoping for. I even managed to curl up with my head under the blanket and a knee on the chair at one point and fall asleep. Getting through immigration was fairly easy and customs was even easier since there was absolutely no one manning the desks. Both of my suitcases arrived in tact and looking a lot less disheveled than I was. I fell asleep on the bus ride to Oxford, but not until after I had seen a few sheep. 

The only truly frustrating part of the day was waiting for a taxi in the rank at the bus station. I saw quite a few "private hire" taxis pull up and drop people off right in front of me, but no regular taxis. After about 30-45 min standing like an idiot with two suitcases in tow, I finally stepped up to the nearest street and waved down the first taxi I saw. I don't care if that is the custom in Oxford or not; it got me a taxi. 

I arrived at Crick and was welcomed at the door by Jonathan, our Junior Dean (aka RA). He dragged my suitcases upstairs (to the 2nd floor which is really the third floor) for me. I quickly changed clothes and made my way back down to a kitchen already bursting with people. There are 23 of us here, boys and girls, and we all ate dinner together that first night. A few of us stayed up late talking, a practice I hope continues throughout the year. 

I have a room to myself but share a bathroom with 6 other girls. The shower this morning would not spit out a steady stream of warm water but rather alternated between too hot and too cold. The sink is too small to lean over and wash my face in and one of the outlets in my room doesn't work. My hair is also not looking at all like it did 5 days ago when I got it cut. 

 Today was spent walking the city and hanging out at the other program house. A few of us made a side field trip to the Botanical Gardens for "The Magic Hour," a special group of 'installations' put up around the garden to celebrate dusk. It was pretty neat, although there was one exhibit that was basically speakers hung up around the wall which whispered creepy passages of something. It was kind of like Sauron's voice from Lord of the Rings. 

It was raining when I arrived yesterday and has been raining on and off ever since. I kind of like it and have already made good use of both my rain coat and umbrella. And tea has now become not only a luxury and recreation but also a necessity, for it helps ease away the general feeling of dampness that comes during the long walks through the rain. 

This post has been rather long and for that I apologize, but I am just so excited to be here I can't help but want to share all the details with you all. I love it and cannot even fathom leaving. I can't help but like a lot of the people I am living with and am looking forward to a great semester. 

Time to Panic . . . I Mean, Pack.

I've been known to be a bit of a psychic. Today I saw my future one week from this very moment; I was restlessly trying to scrunch into a seat too small and not disturb the middle-age man sitting next to me, hoping to fall asleep so I could effectively adjust to the time difference in one fell swoop. 

Every time this, and many other, images that are to befall me in exactly one week popped into my head, my stomach did a flip. It was 15 parts excitement, 5 parts nerves and only 1.667 parts sheer panic. How dumb was I to believe I could work almost up until my departure date? There is still so much to be done!

Needless to say, the shock of finding myself seven days away from a foreign country finally got me moving. I'm currently packing (for real this time) one of my suitcases. Trying on clothes that will have to be warm enough for winter's chills on a hot August night is not my idea of a good time. It does remind me a little of playing dress-up though, and my inner child is smiling. 

I finished Till We Have Faces last night and started on Lilith this morning at work. Apparently the only thing that really does get my procrastinating self moving is a real, solid deadline. Personal goals and vague dates don't do anything. There is nothing so motivating as finding a due date mere days away. 

Progress . . . ?

Today marked the start of my official preparation. Procrastination has finally taken a beating and things are under way. Whilst cleaning my room I started throwing clothes and other various items into a rather large suitcase, thus helping me create the illusion of 'packing.' In a few more days this pile will have to be taken out, scrutinized, tried on, its level of layerability and matchability analyzed and finally rolled and put back into the suitcase. I also managed to narrow down the make-up and jewelry items I will be taking. My mom thinks this makes for a bigger mess, but really it's rather helpful and orderly. 

Another thing I can now check off my list is getting my laptop repaired/cleaned. The store has it right now and so I am writing this from our home computer, whose lumpy keyboard is hindering my ability to type efficiently. (No wonder I learned to type furiously loud.) 

Next on the list is going through a few years worth of National Geographic Travelers and heartlessly ripping out pages that make any reference to the U.K., Italy and the rest of Europe. Although not entirely necessary, this activity provides a nice respite (a.k.a. distraction) from the reading I have yet to make significant progress on. 

On a side note, I had my first major scare this morning about the whole process. A recent letter from Best Semester reminded us to make sure we had our immigration letters handy at the airport since that would be our proverbial ticket into the country. Well I had sent mine off with my Visa application and did not recall it returning. I tore apart my room looking for it, going so far as to dig through my trash, where I found the envelope it would have come in. There was still no sign of it so, rather dejectedly, I prepared to send an appropriately ashamed email saying I could not locate the letter and could I please get another. But what do you know, an email just happened to be waiting for me, clarifying that the year-long students only needed their Visas, not the letter, confirming my original belief that the embassy had not sent it back to me. My relief was tsunami-sized and I am back to my normal state of blatantly ignoring any worry about the trip. 

One Fortnight Away

In exactly two weeks to the hour I will be settling into an airline chair, pulling out my unfinished reading and pretending to pay attention to the flight attendant's safety speech. Although this scenario is exciting it is also just a little frightening. I had a dream last night that I was trying to pack. I woke up feeling stressed and flustered, with a nagging feeling that i was forgetting something already. However, in my dream I did own a very cute little black dress I wish really was hanging in the closet of my reality. 

True to form there are a million and one things still on my "to do" list. My laptop needs a new battery and a thorough cleaning; I need to alert the bank of my overseas status; my new watch needs to be adjusted; and my new (pricey!!!) camera needs to come in the mail so I can get some practice in before I try to take on monuments like Stonehenge. 

I have a good seven days of work left and 4.66 books left to finish. My mom wants me to do a run-through packing before I try for real (the night before). Which means I need to figure out what exactly is going with me. Which also means that I have to try on every piece of clothing I'm thinking about taking to see if it will practically work in full-outfit mode. 

I think I need to conclude this blog now, before I preemptively freak myself out and actually start worrying about when/how this stuff is going to get done. 

Prepping

Oxford is 38 days away! And judging by the facts that I: a) have a countdown going already and b) have started this blog already, you can discern that yes, I am excited.  

Preparations are going less than smoothly, with a few minor frustrations. Getting a UK Visa has been perhaps the most harrowing experience to date. (With the exception of buying an outrageously expensive plane ticket.) I've started pondering what the contents of my suitcase will be, which usually just ends in my belief that one will not be enough to hold all the necessary items. I also have just (barely) begun my summer reading list, which includes: Phantastes and Lilith by George MacDonald; and The Screwtape Letters, Till We Have Faces and The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis. 

When I am not contemplating clothes or novels I am fretting over money exchange and how much travel I will be able to get in. My travel book keeps me company, however, and allows me to dream of the the places I only hope I have enough money to go see.