24 Hours in Oxford

I just got back to Edinburgh from Oxford via a very long train ride (oi, I feel creaky!). Matt is down there for a conference and I thought I’d tag along for the weekend bit because who doesn’t want to see awesome old buildings in the rain? (Yes, we do indeedy have those things in abundance in Edinburgh as well — apparently I have a thing for damp stone).

So here are just some quick pics. I might foist some more on you in my next post because my second 12 hours in Oxford were beautiful and sunny, but these are here just to wet your appetite (and remind you of the trade-off for beautiful places in the UK: the crap the weather).

I originally thought of starting this post like this:

“Oxford, in those days, was still a city of aquatint. In her spacious and quiet streets men walked and spoke as they had done in Newman’s day; her autumnal mists, her grey springtime, and the rare glory of her summer days – such as that day – when the chestnut was in flower and the bells rang out high and clear over her gables and cupolas, exhaled the soft airs of centuries of youth. It was this cloistral hush which gave our laughter its resonance, and carried it still, joyously, over the intervening clamour.”

Because who doesn’t love an Evelyn Waugh quote? And because all my views about Oxford before actually seeing it in person have been formed by watching the Jeremy Irons version of “Brideshead Revisited.”

But I was worried starting with a hoity toity literary quote about my brief sojourn to Oxford might sound a touch pretentious — especially because I’ve only read Brideshead Revisited once and seen the tv series multiple times (the book is wonderful — but the tv series is just so pretty what with the stone and the champagne and Castle Howard). I don’t even remember the Oxford bits in the book.

More to come . sans hoity toity quoting.

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Dear Cath,

So glad we could catch up quickly on skype. This week will be crazy busy for both of us, and getting to see you briefly on skype (even in my sleep-deprived state) is better than not seeing you at all. I wish I could take you to Oxford next time you are here (fancy a 6 hour train ride?) — and I would make it be sunny so we could eat strawberries and drink champagne on one of the quads (which they keep gated against us hoi polloi — but we’d sneak in some how).

I’ll write to you all about what I learn my first day in my course tomorrow. Fingers crossed for me! I’ll have mine crossed for you and your impending mid-term!

xoxoxox,
Lar

p.s. Forever and always missing you!