Oxford, the perils of boots and other comments...

So last Sunday I went to Oxford to visit Jessica Ly who is studying art history there.
Firstly, this was not the best idea as I was still marvelously ill. However, I had already forked out 8 pounds, where is the pounds sign on a keyboard by the way, for my billets so I felt compelled to go not only by my promise but also because national rail already had my money. So off I went.

I boarded the train at Paddington station having taken the tube at 9 for my 9:42 train. I was slightly worried that I would not make it on time, but I arrived at the station at 9:30 and proceeded to one of those self-help ticket counters to get my tickets. Alas, they would not ready my American debit card so I rush over to the real person line and there is like a queue of around 10 people. Frack, I silently exclaim, I am never going to make it. However, the marvel of Britain is that their queues move really fast. So I did in fact make it to a person in time, though she looked at me rather skeptically when I said the machine would not read my card, as if I was somehow trying to cheat First Great Western by using a real person to get my ticket. I did finally get my tickets, there are two per journey, and rush on to the train which then left around 3 minutes later, whew. I then asked someone if I could sit in any seat, as there was an assignment rather crypicially written on one of my tickets for the journey, but she replied no, so I just threw myself into a window seat and watched the train station move away, or rather, us move away from it. Eventually we cleared the post-industrial society sector that is London's outskirts and I got to seem some hills and sheep and this made me very happy.

On the train I watched people, my favo(u)rite past time here, as well as the indigenous flora and fauna out of the window. The highlight was a rather attractive man with dark brown curly hair who seemed as annoyed by the gangle of high-schoolers who talked incessantly for 40 minutes as I was. He unfortunately got off at Maidenhead and not at Oxford, so alas I could only stare out the window for the last hour. I did get asked directions while on the train by a couple of Europeans, nationality unknown as I couldn't understand their language but it seemed European. They wanted to go to Windsor and didn't speak much English and I tried to make it clear that I thought they were on the wrong train and they quickly got off at the next station. I was, of course, rather disappointed that I couldn't tell them which train they needed to be on so I will have to study up on the rail system for future occurrences.

Oxford is rather charming and a lot nicer than I remember it from 2001 when I was first there. The buildings are old and charming, the streets twisted making you think it would be impossible to lay siege to this town as you would get lost or end up where you started inadvertently, and I had a great time wandering around with Jessica and then on my own while she went to choir practice. I did sort of my own circuit tour of the city, doubling back every now and then so I wouldn't get lost because I didn't have a map, but Oxford isn't really that big. If I go back again, I think that I will go on a tour of Christ's College which is this massive and beautiful complex of buildings that exudes academia in a sort of glow from the stone buildings. I also got to eat in the dining hall of St. Catherine's College, which is like a 60's version of the Great Hall and there for amazing and then later Chinese food in an Oxford dorm. Pretty awesome. The train ride back was uneventful except I was happy to sit down as I had been walking for like 5 hours that day and then I returned to my room after another tube ride and a short walk and proceeded to collapse into my bed where I stayed until class the next day.

This damn illness procedes however. I stopped taking the sort of medecine I was taking becuase I am stupid so I still have a bit of a cough even now. This is not helped by the fact that I like to walk home from school in the evenings, which are rather cool temperature wise, and this brings me to my second point. Do not ware boots to school. I make this mistake frequently. I don't like to look like a slob and an american so that means no tennis shoes/sneakers/trainers. So I ware boots, I also have loafers, but that is another story. However, it is a 2.2 mile walk back from LSE to my dorm and my feet hurt after like a mile. However, the walk back is very nice ie picturesque. I try to take a different route every day so I get to know the city's ins and outs. My favorite is to walk back from LSE down fleet street which is right in the heart of the legal sector and then walk over the pedestrian bridge at St. Paul's and walk along the river to Borough High Street by London Bridge and then down to Great Dover Street and to my dorm. The streets are cobbled sort of at the end, another reason why boots are a giant 'no' for this journey.

Alas, I have a paper due monday which I must start, so wish me luck. I shall try to recall some more adventures to share with you, but my life is pretty boring but there is a story about a bar which is rather amusing. I hope you are all well. ZHAO PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING I HAVE NO IDEA HOW YOU ARE. And Alison I will let you know my travel plans as soon as I can, I'm trying to figure out if I have enough money to get a hotel room in Strasbourg right now, so we'll see. I hope you get your bicyclette situation resolved vitement.

'Cheers'

Eleanor