Headed Home

Okay. That British rain we've heard so much about has started, so time to go home!

We are packed and ready to start our day of travel – a combination of public transportation that has become quite familiar: walk the half block to the corner and take the X3 Oxford bus to the “rail station”, board the First Great Western express train to Paddington Station where we will take the Heathrow Express to Terminal 3. This leg of the trip will be on Air Canada through Calgary – hopefully the Canadian Mounties will not be waiting for Jim at the gate (reference to Jim’s speeding ticket in Vancouver years ago).

So in preparation for a day of sitting, we spent the last two days just relaxing here in Oxford. One of the things that we learned from the two weeks in Portugal last year, and reinforced with these two weeks in Oxford, is that what we most enjoy is getting the feel of what it is like to live somewhere different. And staying in a house makes it much more real than being in a hotel – even down to figuring out how to operate appliances,

live without a dryer (you can see Jim doing it the old fashioned, environmentally correct way), navigate a grocery store, sort recyclables in a whole new way, etc. Granted, a lot easier here due to everything being in English.

We have been out on the bikes again – and getting much more adept at zipping down the left side of the street and going around the many city buses and tour buses (that are very bike-friendly and seem to watch out for us). We had one moment of panic when we locked up our bikes to eat lunch and when we returned we could not get them unlocked (they were chained together and then around a railing). During what seemed like an eternity of each taking a stab at it, I was thinking of the email I would need to write to our homeowners: “Dear Simon and Lesley: Thank you so much for the use of the bikes. We were very careful to lock them up, but then could not unlock them. You will find them safely secured at the corner of…” We finally figured out that we needed to push before turning. So we were back on the bikes for a nice ride via the bike path along the Thames.

Our Oxford time gave us time to explore several of the fabulous, and free museums. These included the Museum of Natural Sciences (including archeological equipment of Lawrence of Arabia, a blackboard of formula’s written by Einstein when he gave a lecture here, and creations of Marconi, just to name a few) and the Sheldonian Theatre (1669) where the painted ceiling depicts the triumph of religion, art and science over envy, hatred and malice (that theme again). We also entered the bizarre world of The Pitts River Museum (the “back room” of the University Museum). The front portion is a museum of natural history and includes a stuffed dodo bird (extinct since the 17^th century) immortalized in Alice in Wonderland (Lewis Carroll was a mathematics lecturer here at Oxford).

The Pitts River portion is hard to describe so I did take a few photos. It is a massive ethnographic (archeological and anthropological) collection with over 500,000 items from all over the world and from all different eras. The museum's collection is arranged thematically, according to how the objects were used, rather than according to their age or origin. Everything is displayed in old Victorian style cases, with either handwritten or typed (on a very old typewriter) descriptions. Felt a bit like being in a flea market or antique store.

Here is one example of a thematic display - "Gambling Games"

And for those of us play therapists, it is the dream sand tray figurine collection

The building itself was remarkable, with each column created from limestone from a different part of the world. Out in front was an installation “Ghost Forest” by Angela Palmer – consisting of 10 primary rainforest tree stumps which she brought over from a commercially logged rainforest in Ghana, Western Africa.

The logistics of doing that seems impossible. And we grumbled about how hard it was to move the couch out of the window of 289 Marina Blvd…

Yesterday afternoon we went to the Ashmolean Museum – it is touted as “one of the best museums in Britain outside of London” so hopefully that will satisfy those of you that our muttering about our failure to see the Tate or British Museum.

Here is where had our question answered about the metal detectors in the fields that we had viewed on our train ride to London. Looking for coins – there are “hoards” of coins that have been excavated in the area – from Roman coins to early British – so basically during times of war, people would put there coins in a jar and bury them, hoping to come back later to retrieve them. Other items of interest included the Alfred Jewel (a gold enameled ring, over 1,000 years old, said to be the inspiration for Tolkein’s Trilogy’s ring – Tolkein taught at Oxford and is buried here), Egyptian mummies, and the “Messiah Stradivarius” violin just to name a few. It was five floors of exhibits but small enough where we could see everything.

A bit of shopping in Oxford, and dinner at “home”, we toasted another great vacation. As we gathered up our things and put their house back in order (we have heard from them that they left our house on Wednesday and were headed to Yosemite and then Los Angeles) I found myself drawn to the laptop and browsing through www.sabbaticalhomes.com just to look at possible options for the future. This was an experiment in home exchange and we think it went quite well (we did not receive any emails from neighbors indicating problems on the homefront). We stayed in touch with the family throughout the trip and it was fun to hear what they were doing, which suggestions they had taken regarding places to go and things to do and they seemed equally as interested to hear our adventures.

We have an ocean and continent to cross and, to quote Robert Frost (who has an honorary degree from Oxford) "miles to go before we sleep," so off we go to begin our journey home.

Hope to see you all soon! (and if you haven't read Jim's "Loo" post yet, be sure to go to "previous" posts)

Jim and Lisa – in our Oxford Home

Another Loo Story

Just want to take a brief moment to preface this blog entry from Jim:

Regarding the title - if you didn't read his blog from last year about his experience in the "loo" at Heathrow Airport, you may want to look on the right and go back to post from May 28, 2009 to read the first "loo" story.

This story had all of us (Gilles, Janet and me) laughing to the point of tears when Jim told us - hope you enjoy it just as much!

Another Loo Story

There are certain universal rules that exist to maintain basic human dignity. At least I would like to believe so. Take using the men’s room, the john, the water closet, the loo. The rules for men are an unfathomable calculus of social mores, personal preferences and basic instincts, but certain fundamental elements hold true regardless of culture. I am not suggesting that it is any less complicated for women. I could ask, but I don’t think I really want to know. I still prefer the quaint notion of the powder room. As a boy, I recall the glimpses I would catch walking past an opening or closing door to the ladies “lounge.” These furtive sights revealed a world so different than the men’s room. There were brightly lit mirrors and crushed velvet stools and chaises. Women were clustered around these mirrors actually carrying on conversations. The whooshing of the swinging door exploded a flowery fragrance into the hall suggesting a garden-like atmosphere. These glimpses were corroborated by movies in which these spacious rooms were opportunities for women to apply bright red lipstick and powder their faces as they spoke breathlessly about their husbands or boyfriends or other women, using the smacking of their freshly rouged lips on a tissue as punctuation.

I am not hopelessly lost in the 50’s. I just prefer that image. It is an image, however, that makes the men’s room seem medieval. As jarring as some of the conditions can be, it is not so much the environment as much as the men’s room etiquette that poses the challenge. Issues of territory: proximity and privacy (sight and sound) all run through that great calculator known as a man’s brain. It’s actually quite instinctual. Upon entering one must stake a claim that provides maximum distance from other males of the species while anticipating future entrants. Once territory as been established other challenges arise such as initiation and aim of the stream. As any woman who has lived with a male can testify, this is no mean feat. However, the biggest challenge is the fart quandary (FQ).

Because things in nature rarely happen in isolation, the establishment of an adequate stream requires the relaxation of two sphincter muscles. The essential question then becomes: When is it okay to “let fly a fart?”

That quote is from the Miller’s Tale found in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales which ironically begins, “Once on a time was dwelling in Oxford...” The line, “Let fly a fart” is the only thing I remember from my high school literature class. Out of the entire Norton Anthology, what else is a fourteen year old boy really going to remember? Although I had no clue what he was saying most of the time, I felt I had a bawdy kindred spirit in Chaucer, a spirit that finds a common humanity through the most basic of functions that we all share. How else can you explain the whoope cushion?

There is actually one other thing I recall from that class: the character of “Jimmy Legs” from Melville’s “Billy Budd.” It is memorable only because a classmate tried for 2 years to affix that nickname to me. It never caught on despite his persistence. In fact no one else ever called me that. I think it’s because I’m not really a nickname kind of guy. The same wasn’t true for my friend Paul who had more nicknames that the Inuit have words for snow. “Boo,” “Babushka,” “Thunder thighs” were just a few he would accumulate almost weekly. The only nickname for me that had any legs was usually hurled during the occasional ethnic bashing. I was “McWop” due to my Irish/Italian heritage. We all had these epithets that were only brandished in the heat of battle. Milosevic had nothing on our readiness to use ethnicity as a way to humiliate, denigrate and decimate each other. God, I miss those days!

But I digress....

While dining at the Isis Farmhouse Pub in Oxford, I found myself in need of the loo. As I was the only male, establishing territory was easy. I was relaxed and calculus free. Just as I secured a site, another male of the species entered. In any other setting, two males of the species might acknowledge each other’s presence, but in the loo, eyes are averted and a deafening silence takes hold. That is unless one must “let fly a fart!” Just as I am not a nickname kind of guy, I am not a flagrant fart flyer. Lisa would STRENUOUSLY disagree. However this is the men’s room. There are different rules.

Again, because things in nature rarely happen in isolation I am forced into the ancient art of Ninja Wind. This highly skilled manuveur permits the opening of the floodgates while simultaneously closing the vent...if you catch my drift, which, if done properly, you won’t! As the fates would have it I was not entirely successful because from out of my arse (Thanks Chaucer!) was born a sound that can best be described as, “piccolo-ish.” Now, in the convoluted world of men’s room etiquette it would have been better to “let fly a fart as loud as it had been a thunder-clap,” than to produce the pitch of a newly trapped mouse. I redoubled my efforts and managed to gain control and although I may have lost face, silence if not my dignity, was restored. It was the next sound, however, that truly unnerved me.

“Well done!”

I looked to the left and found my loo-mate sporting a rather rakish grin. Suddenly I found myself in a comedy of manners. In the UK, is it customary to acknowledge the passing of wind? What exactly had been done well? Was it a simple acknowledgment of our shared experience? Was it in reference to the pitch just shy of a dog whistle? I had no clue what to say. I suppose a jocular “Thanks” would have been the way to go but all I could manage was an awkward smile. Washing at the sink I was glad there were no brightly lit powder room mirrors because all I would have seen was my look of confusion and bewilderment. Had I committed some faux pas by failing to respond properly? Will my rakish friend return to his table and complain to his mates about the crass American? Was HE the one who breached what I believed to be a universal code? I will never know if it was a breach of etiquette or a more relaxed British variation. What I do know is that, once on a time dwelling in Oxford, I rediscovered Chaucer and perhaps a little more of my humanity. Someday, I hope to have the courage to rise up against the tyranny of class and acknowledge the elephant fart in the room with a sincere and reassuring, “Well done!” Who knows... if I use a British accent, I won’t get my ass kicked.

All about London

We have tackled London as best we could in three days. I think that San Francisco, being only 49 square miles, makes it much easier on tourists. This place is huge - very spread out. Fortunately our guide book broke it into areas and that helped us focus and conserve our energy, at least a bit. We have a new friend at the Oxford train station - seemed to remember us from day to day - and an hour express train (only 2 or 3 stops) brought us into Paddington Station. Pleasant sites along the way, including people walking through fields with metal detectors. A curiosity answered today at the Ashmolean Museum here in Oxford (more about that on a later post). We then switched to the underground which was easy to navigate.

As we first arrived to London "above ground" at the Victoria station, our first sight was the Victoria Palace theatre and "Billy Elliot" on the marquis. It was all too simple - we walked up to the box office and purchased same day "reduced rate (haha)" tickets for that evening. Center orchestra (here referred to as "stalls"), on the aisle, row J. Into the purse went the tickets and we were off to explore.

We went on the audio tour through Westminster Abbey. Massive, beautiful, full of history - but most moving was "Poet's corner" where authors, poets, actors are either buried or memorialized with plaques.

We have seen the tombs of so many royals, can't even remember which ones are buried here - but there are a bunch. No photos were allowed but at one point we sat down to enjoy the choir rehearsal (Jim strategically placed the Flip Camera under his brochure so we have a bit recorded) and took notice of how the church here (versus some of the current religious debate in the US) has no difficulty reconciling religion and science - with the alter flanked with the tombs (and corresponding statues) of Newton and Darwin. Would have been a great photo...I thought I'd be able to put on videos from the flip, but doesn't seem to upload and probably means converting file, etc...too lazy to figure that out.

We walked by the House of Parliament and Big Ben.

And then walked over the Thames on the Centennial Bridge.

Not sure I'd want my wedding photos in such a public venue, but it was entertaining for us to watch...

We much preferred this quartet.

We walked through various streets, including the highly guarded entrance to Downing Street and wound our way back towards the theatre. While we were looking for a spot for a light dinner we were caught in our first English downpour. It was short-lived but it sent us rushing to the first cafe we passed. We did have umbrellas, but it came on so quick there was barely time to put them up.

The show was fabulous, particularly for all you (like us) Think You Can Dance fans. The 12 year old star danced with such passion and completely lit up the stage. The rest of the cast was equally as talented - but amazing that such a young kid can "lead" a cast like he did. Theatres here don't appear to give out a PlayBill. Instead for 5 pounds - which I wasn't willing to pay, you can be the proud owner of a glossy photo-filled program. So I did need to to research once we were home to find out who this amazing young man was - his name is Dean-Charles Chapman. While doing this (or "whilst" doing this as they say here) google research, I did find him on YouTube if you are interested - although it is bootleg so quality is not so great...just copy and paste the link into your browser.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s1ttNoEl7ng&NR=1

Tired as we were, we returned to London the next day (Sunday) and spent most of the day enjoying Notting Hill. It is as charming as depicted in the movie of the same name.

Throughout England, it is important to look up as you pass houses, as they will have plaques, such as the one below, depicting the famous person that resided there.

This is the "modest" home of George Orwell. We did pass by real estate offices, and this is quite a pricey area, but it does have the neighborhood feel. And do take notice of that wonderful blue sky - a perfect, warm day.

Portabello Rd runs the length of the neighborhood, filled with cafes, restaurants, and funky stores

including the Travel Bookshop (actually on a side street) that the Hugh Grant character owned in the movie.

Over a few blocks was the more "posh" shopping area and prices in the stores went from affordable to "are you kidding me?"

We continued to walk, not quite sure where we would end up, but found ourselves at Kensington Palace. Too late to do a tour (stores and venues shut down much earlier here),

but the gardens were open. Each section of the garden had an archway with a whimsical metal sculpture.

The garden had the typical English garden symmetry, but managed to look different from every angle.

I think we fit in perfectly here - I guess there is a little "royal" in each of us!

Day three in London (after taking a much needed break on Monday) was specifically planned to include rain - and as we had seen in weather reports, it did rain most of the day. But it was more of a drizzle and it was not cold out, so we managed.

We started the day at the Tower of London - a drab fortress from the outside, but hey, we had a two-for-one coupon so why not!

The interior was surprisingly more of a like a small village. It was a very confusing place, and the audio tour was not particularly helpful, but we found the dungeon with the torture devices, a museum exhibit of armory and lineage of the royals and, of course, the crown jewels.

all heavily guarded.

From there we had great views of the Tower Bridge

We had booked ahead our tour of Buckingham Palace. One of the advantages of coming during peak season is that BP is only open for tours in August and September since it is still a working Palace and the official home of the Queen. We had learned during our tour of Windsor castle last week, the Buckingham was first open to tourists in 1993 to help cover the cost of fire damage repairs at Windsor. Definitely worth seeing. So that fire was the tourist's gain.

After putting up our umbrellas back up we splashing along the exit path through the gardens and then headed over to Hyde Park. In spite of the drizzle we enjoyed our stroll on the Princess Diana memorial walk

That is Jim with my adorable polka-dot umbrella...I had a hooded rain jacket so I loaned my umbrella to him...

Speaker's Corner was without speakers, but wet lawn chairs were ready and waiting.

We did a brief stop at Piccadilly - much like Time Square but most of the buildings are more beautiful - and then collapsed back on the train to Oxford.

So, we know we will hear from many of you about what we didn't see - I can hear it now, "what do you mean, you didn't go to...(insert your item of choice)". Believe me, I could have spent every day seeing another play, let alone all the tourist spots and museums. Just means we'll have to return some day.

And we still have more to do in Oxford.

Day Tripping from Oxford

We have been so busy that we haven't had a chance to sit down and do a blog entry. But today (Monday) is a relax at "home" day. There is so much to see we have to remind ourselves to slow down a bit - so today is that day - we are Oxford, and Oxford only.

Janet and Gilles left on Saturday morning, so all last week we did day trips (you read about one on the post last week) with one day spent more officially touring Oxford (going into the colleges, touring the library). Gilles did an admiral job of driving on the left side of the road, aided by the GPS (in terms of getting us where we needed to go) and three “back seat drivers” saying “other side” or “attencion” (that is how "attention" is pronounced in French) every so often.

Last Tuesday we were off to Warwick Castle, the most medieval of the castles in the country.

It is set up to be a family friendly attraction, so lots of interactive activities (jousting, docents in period costume, areas of the castle named to keep the kids interested “the princess tower”) but we maneuvered past all of that and did enjoy the interior of the castle. Because it was set up for families we did enjoy getting to touch things – lifting up swords which weighed much more than we expected. Those knights in shining armor must have spent a lot of time at the gym.

After the castle, we went to Stratford-on-the-Avon, Shakespeare’s birthplace.

It is a popular destination, by car, tour bus, train, and even houseboats!

Very cute town, with many "leaning" structures.

Before going on to describe it, we have noticed that throughout this country, authors and poets are very celebrated and honored in all venues (museums, churches, even houses on the street marked as an author’s birthplace or where they lived). As an avid reader I have found it quite emotionally moving. So here we were in Stratford, where the man who wrote all those plays we had to study in high school English, or (for Jim) perform on the LPC stage, was born, went to grade school, lived (also in London) and died. Self-guided tours were incredible – of his birthplace, his daughter/son-in-law’s house, where he lived when he died, and where he and family were buried. While we couldn’t quite do it in order because of the timing, it does give you the sense of walking through somebody’s life and then to sit in the church and look at the memorial stones – really hard to even put into words.
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Shakespeare's birthplace

and the garden in back.

Anne Hathaway's cottage.

This is the house where his daughter and son-in-law lived. Son-in-law was a physician, so this home housed a museum of medical items from the time.

The house where he was living when he died.

The gardens outside the home were stunning, like so many wonderful gardens we have seen in this country. English country gardens - probably an insane amount of work to keep up, but we are enjoying the efforts, from the sculpted gardens like this one, to the more seemingly "wild" ones like in the backyard of his birthplace.

surreal to sit here and view this.

Wednesday brought us to Salisbury Cathedral, the construction of which was the inspiration for the book “Pillars of the Earth”. It was built between 1220 and 1258 – given the size the "speedy" construction was a remarkable feat and worthy of an exciting novel.

Also unique architecturally as it has a nave that is open from front to back as opposed to the traditional gothic style that has pillars and screens in the middle. A tower was also added later over the center, and the bowing of the pillars is noticeable as they had to accommodate the additional structural weight. The church also houses one of four surviving Magna Cartas – and they claim it is the “finest” of those four. The docent pointed out that it had an abbreviated form of Latin – and credited it as the original “texting”.

So if that wasn’t enough for one day, we went to nearby Stonehenge. Having seen so many pictures of it, I didn’t expect to be impressed, but impressed would be an understatement. I felt much like I did when I saw the Grand Canyon – so much better in person than in photos. But, here are the photos anyway!

To cap off the day, we went for a pub dinner in Shaftesbury, where cobblestoned Gold Hill is often used in movies/shows that need to give the flavor of Old England.

This area of Dorset, including Stonehenge, is Thomas Hardy country and with another tribute to writers, the audio tour of Stonehenge included a reading of Hardy from Tess of the d’Urbervilles.

Thursday was spent touring two of the Oxford Colleges (Magdalen and ChristChurch) and the Bodlean Library. While Christ Church and the Bodlean are the most popular because of being featured in the Harry Potter films, Magdalen is the most beautiful,

its gardens include a herd of deer.

Here is Christ Church College circa Harry Potter

And Jim enjoying a brief fantasy of being on the teaching throne at Bodlean Library.

I think we all had fantasies of going back to school…

We ended the evening with dinner at “The Trout” – a pub on the river outside of town that friend Connie recommended from when she did a semester of Law School at Oxford in 1978 – it is still here and also recommended by the owners of the house.

So, here I will take a moment to dispel all the rumors about the crappy British food. We have had great food (with the help of recommendations from the owners) here in Oxford, but also out-and-about.

Jim has found this to be a vegetarian-friendly country. Wherever we go, including pubs, there are multiple choices for him. Much easier than last year’s trip.

Friday we were back in the car off to Windsor and another castle. While in the rest of Europe it is overwhelming to view the wealth of the Catholic Church, here it boggles the mind to see the wealth of the royals.

It is the oldest continuously inhabited royal castle in Britain. Exhibits included impressive collections of artwork (Van Dyke, Da Vinci, Michelangelo just to name a few) as well as a portrait photo collection of the royal family (yes, Prince Charles’ ears were big right from the start).

The castle exterior is not that beautiful, but the moat around it has been turned in to a beautiful terraced garden.

As mentioned, this is a functioning residence of the Queen...and the Queen needs her mail!

I took the opportunity to pose near one of the guards - won't be possible at Buckingham, so why not be a tourist!

Our drive back to Oxford took us along winding roads through thatch-roofed villages, rolling hills, lots of sheep. Picture perfect.

Next adventure: London. Stay tuned…