Oxford

On the train to Oxford

Bonus blog post! Too much adrenaline to sleep on the train to Paris currently (woke up at 4 a.m.), so I figured I’d share my day at Oxford yesterday with you before I reach France.

Let me tell you, there is nothing worse than having your mocha at London St. Pancras train station accidentally upgraded to a medium and not realizing you’ll have to give it up when you hit security. And I thought U.S. airports were bad. The guy at security obviously doesn’t realize the value of a decent U.K. mocha at 6 a.m.—especially when you buy it in GBP (£).  First my peanut butter, then my coffee. Does travel security know no bounds?!

Regardless, I successfully took the first bus out of Hampstead, the first tube out of Finchley Road and am here on the train armed with just my backpack and Longchamp bag waiting until 7:01 to take off to Paris (cue French accent here). I also seem to be the only one on the train with an empty seat next to them. Score.

Anyways, we started our Thursday nice and early, taking off from Hampstead around 8:30 to catch our train to Oxford, which took about an hour. On the train, we got our first glimpse of out-of-London Britain, which was exciting. Those who know me well—or have just traveled from Minneapolis to Wisconsin or Evanston with me—will also know I was also pretty excited at the prospect of seeing some (seemingly) free-roaming sheep and ponies!

Don’t mock.

Balliol College

The hedge mazes in Balliol

Oxford, as many of you probably know, is a bustling town west of London, most notably home to one of the world’s most prestigious institutions, Oxford University. For reference, think Cambridge, Mass. with even cooler architecture.  Plenty of fashionable college students walking around, tourists snapping pictures, market-type shops, and history everywhere you turn.

Bria, God bless her soul (and her iPad) downloaded some digital walking tours of Oxford the night before, so we forwent the £8-13 guided tours and set off on our own.

Our first stop was Balliol College, the oldest college in Oxford. We paid £1 to get in at the student price, and spent about an hour exploring its grounds. It was stunning. From the gardens to the chapel to the hedge mazes, entering Balliol was like being transported to a much earlier time (or at least to Hogwarts). There were amazing, sprawling courtyards with terribly intricate architecture, blooming bright flowers, and curving walking paths. Definitely worth the price of admission.

 

Book lover's paradise

Next on our tour was Blackwell bookshop—any bibliophile’s dream. The inner room of the store houses more books for sale than anywhere else in the world (or so Bria’s tour told us). With endless rows of books, you wonder if bookstores in Europe are doing as poorly as those in the states. The new book smell was incredible (okay, now you can mock).

Centuries-old globes; behind me is a blackboard by Einstein

After exploring some more of Oxford’s fabulous architecture, we headed to the Museum of the History of Science, an almost hole-in-the-wall museum compared to those we’ve visited in London. Though relatively small and only three floors, we saw some fascinating scientific instruments dating as far back as 200 A.D. Among them were astrological instruments, telescopes, barometers, medical instruments, cameras, and globes. I’m not usually a science-y person, but the museum was pretty cool. It didn’t hurt that the museum was housed in a centuries-old building, complete with spiral wooden staircases and ornate frames. They even had bones on display that were found during the excavation of the basement.

After having lunch in a quaint courtyard behind a sandwich shop, we headed to the Bodleian Library, which, as you can imagine, houses about a billion million trillion books for Oxford. It has a beautiful courtyard and a free exhibit on Dickens, which we perused, complete with first editions of his novels and some of his early letters. Pretty cool.

Bodleian Library

Realizing we had a lot of time left in the day, we decided to stroll along the river and through the gardens of Oxford, which was a great decision for a lovely 65-degree and partly cloudy day. As we walked, we came across a rugby field (how British) with a team of five or six-year-old boys decked out in red and black striped rugby shirts practicing. One of the most remarkable things I’ve seen, they were playing as all kids do—obviously universal—in a field overlooked by a breathtaking gothic towers.

Coming across the rugby field

They played absolutely oblivious to the sprawling scene behind them. What to me was a scene out of a movie, to them was just another day at rugby practice. What an eye-opener to different perspectives on life. I stood in awe at the beautiful scene, and they were simply chasing each other and passing a rugby ball. It makes me wonder if Europeans simply take their beautiful surroundings and history for granted, or it’s just a kid thing. I can definitely say, however, us 20-year-old Americans truly appreciate it.

Oxford castle

When we finished the “Dead Man’s Walk” (why a path surrounded by fields and gardens and castles is called that, I have no idea), we headed over to Oxford castle to scope it out before finding food. All that was left was a couple of towers, but it was pretty awesome nonetheless. With some hours left in Oxford—yay for cheap late off-peak trains—we found a pub with £3.99 fish and chips and £1.99 pints, and, for lack of a better word, chilled.

 

It was a late night by the time we got back to Hampstead, especially considering I hadn’t begun to pack for Paris yet, but definitely worth it. Doing all of this travel without having to worry about class has been great. It’s going to be weird when my three-week vacation comes to an end Monday as I begin classes.

Though I was sad to leave my friends at Hampstead for the weekend (especially Bria who I’ve lived with since the first day at the Thistle Bloomsbury hotel), I can’t wait to explore a new country and see some friends from home. Molly and I have planned for months to travel Europe together and now those plans are finally coming to fruition.

Even sitting on this train, I’m now passing rolling hills, quaint riverside towns, and green sheep-filled pastures—all as the sun is rising over the European landscape Kiera-Knightly-in-Pride-&-Prejudice style.

 Is this real life? I’ve had to keep asking myself that lately.