Monday
Oxford is, as it turns out, not really that far away. I took the Eurostar around 11, and two hours later (1 with the time difference) – tadaa! I was in London.
I’ve been meaning to go to London since I was 15- really, I kept telling myself every year that I was going there, but instead I went to a bunch of other places, so London was a Big Deal to me. I planned to do a bunch of things during my few short hours there.
unfortunately… even though I used the underground a lot, wandering about the city with a big back pack simply isn’t that much fun, and I couldn’t bring it into the British museum with me, so ended up not doing anything really- except stressbuy two books, because travelling makes me anxious.
Anyways, onwards I went! Via Paddington station I took the train to Oxford, and of course accidentally took a regional train, so it took me two hours instead of one, but hey, I guess I could really appreciate the English countryside this way?
Tuesday
Tried liking English breakfast. It didn’t like me back. But in hindsight, I wasn’t hungry for the rest of the day, so it did make that day cheaper. I walked to the city centre, stopping by the tourist information office and getting my first glimpse at the pretties, and then pretty much went straight into a giant Waterstone’s. And then I went back to my hostel, because there was no way I was going to drag around 6 new books for the rest of the day.
At noon I did a guided tour through some of the colleges. All the buildings are made out of the same type of stone, yellow limestone, which has a very cheerful colour and makes the buildings (whose ages differ centuries) feel like one whole, even though they used almost every architectural style in the book. The tour also gave me a first taste of how traditional and by-the-book the colleges were, and I thought it was weird that this is the same city where the Bullingdon Club is based. I tried not to think too much about that- I mean, I was walking through the same corridors where some of my literary heroes had walked: Philip Pullman, C.S. Lewis, Lewis Carroll, Tolkien, Oscar Wilde,…
Well, I guess even they had their pleasures, as later that day I had the pleasure of admiring a bill and summons addressed to mr. Wilde himself, which was displayed in the Bodleian library. Other treasures, or as I liked to refer to them in my head, celebrities, was a page out of Shelley’s manuscript for Frankenstein, the original drawing of Bag-End by Tolkien, and a first Folio of Shakespeare’s plays. I think I made some very undignified sounds back in that exhibition…
I also found the covered market, and had tea in front of the Radcliffe Camera. I kinda need scones in my life now.
Wednesday
this day was a day for making friends.
I queued up for a tour of the libraries, but it got sold out before the queue even moved. Fortune favours those who travel alone though, because a woman showed up selling a spare single ticket and I managed to join the tour anyways.
First we got some information in the hall where they filmed the medical bay in Harry Potter, and then we went to the oldest part of the library, which is right above it. The smell was amazing, and the books looked so old and fragile, all neatly and carefully stored in the position they were catalogued in when the collection was just a few hundred books. Think dark wooden furniture, hushed whispers, beautifully painted ceilings, and the smell of the most foxed book you have ever seen times a hundred.
After that we visited the Radcliffe Camera, which is drop-dead gorgeous (no dark wood here, but a light blue dome with white decorations, almost like clouds), and then down, through the underground libraries, through a tunnel which was used in the past by the “Bodley Boys” (age 9 – 13) who would cart books from one library to the other, and then back up. Amazing tour. Would recommend to anyone who gets excited about books.
After the tour I went to Blackwell’s, which was described in my guide as a humongous bookstore. I browsed a bit (it was floor after floor of books, and I think at some point I weirded out a store clerk when he asked if he could help and I sort of whimpered “there’s so much choice!”), and then went on an Inklings tour. It was just me and a very friendly couple from Antwerp, so it was nice, though the tour seemed to be mostly about C.S. Lewis, and I didn’t learn all that much. I afterwards had lunch with them- we might keep in touch.
In the afternoon I went to the natural history museum (because dinosaurs!) which was nice, but nothing I hadn’t seen before. The ceiling was beautiful though: all glass and iron beams.
For dinner I decided I’d honour Tolkien with a cider at the Eagle and Child, where he had a drink with his fellow Inklings every Tuesday (I still think Inklings is the best name for a writer’s group EVER). And, well, I was in England, so I might as well have fish & chips there while I was at it.
There were three other girls sitting in the same den, and I overheard them talking- apparently they had all come for the same purpose! Two were from Australia, one from Canada. We took pictures and laughed at the coincidence. The girl from Canada invited me along to a gig she was going to after- and well, last time I did that I ended up at a memorable pirate metal gig, so I thought: why not? The gig was improv at a really pretty second hand bookstore, and although I’m still not convinced about the genre (think free jazz- but not jazz), I’m still happy I went.
Thursday
A day for gardens. It was cloudy, which was perfect, because that meant I could be outside without getting even worse sunburn. First I walked near Christ Church College, then the botanical gardens where I played with my camera a bit (I love that zoom button), and then after some tea I explored Addison’s Walk, which is in Magdalen College and where Tolkien and Lewis would walk and talk about stories, myths and religion. I spotted a lot of grey squirrels (which I’m not used to, I only see the occasional red flash of a red squirrel here in Belgium), deer, birds, and for a few fleeting seconds even a kingfisher.
In the afternoon I took the bus to Wolvercote cemetery, to visit Tolkien’s grave. Of course, it did rain then, because my life is like a movie sometimes. I’m a bit embarrassed to say that I did get a bit emotional then. So, like a good girl, I went back into town and drowned my sadness in souvenirs.
That night I had dinner in an Irish pub and decided to try a pint of cider instead of half a pint.
Big mistake. Will keep to hobbit measures from now on.
Friday
Last day! So of course, I tried to do everything I hadn’t done yet. I was up before anything was open, so I walked around the Christ Church meadows, visited Oxford castle (roleplay and hangings, what’s not to love!), the Ashmolean museum (so many Greek and Egyptian artefacts! Mummies!), and the science museum (astrolabes aplenty, and Einstein’s blackboard to boot!).
I did a last trip to Blackwell’s and found another gigantic room of books that I hadn’t discovered yet (I whimpered audibly), and ended up with another three books.
By then I was dead tired, so I went to the Eagle and Child again as a sort of ‘goodbye’ to Tolkien’s Oxford, and to have dinner. No fans, but great cheap food and good cider was all I wanted.
Saturday
I was up early, considering I’d been talking late into the evening with my roommates, but I had missed the tour for the Globe on Monday, and I was anxious not to miss it again- but I managed. It was beautiful! It smelled like fresh-cut wood- and I had never noticed the murals before when I’d seen it in pictures. They were setting things up for Mac- I mean, the Scottish Play.
Then onwards to the British museum! (I could finally go in because I had left my bag in Paddington station.) I was just amazed at all the stuff they had- I recognised a lot from the history school books I’d had as a kid, and that just makes me as giddy as if I was 12 years old again. And I *finally* saw the Rosetta stone. I remember my Egyptian phase when I was a kid and reading about it in my Eyewitness books, and I even visited Champollion’s home village Figéac and his grave in Paris a couple of years ago.
After that, my travel anxiety started to kick in again, so I retrieved my bag and went to Pancreas station.
I don’t know if I like London. Nothing feels organised- buildings hundreds of years old next to shiny office buildings, and usually only a thin ribbon of sky overhead. But maybe I like different neighbourhoods better, or maybe when it’s not high season.
- Oh, and one last anecdote. At the station they’d put down a few pianos for people to play on if they wished, and of course there was this 15-year-old Asian kid playing Rachmaninov’s second, which is only the hardest concerto there is… lovely piece though. It was a nice goodbye.
The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
Let others follow it who can!
Let them a journey new begin,
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.
Until next time!
-Bejoes
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