Today we boarded a coach and headed to Oxford. I’ve heard so much about Oxford. Dorothy Sayers, some television shows, a few movies….the phrase “the dreaming spires of Oxford” floats in my brain. Turns out it’s a town, a market city, and a bunch of colleges. There is no “Oxford College” There is Magdalen and Balliol and Bracenose and a whole host of others.
We admire stone buildings, manicured lawns, many gargoyles and statues. There are gangs of students in academic dress because it’s exams week. Exams are given to freshmen and seniors and I guess the middle years are taken on faith that you’re learning something. The students are garbed in “sub-fusc” (I’ve read that phrase and now I’ve seen it!). There are lots of bicycles and deadly silent electrical scooters. It’s all very dense and very busy.
The streets are actual cobblestone – river rock laid out in a slippery pattern that would be lethal in heels. Other areas have “Victorian commercial cobbles” which are more like what I’ve seen in America. In any event, walking is a bit tricky – you have to watch for traffic and try not to turn an ankle at the same time.
Our guide looks like Santa Claus and is filled with anecdotes about his life at Oxford as a student and his adventures as a Morris dancer and his various odd jobs involving coeds and film stars. He sounds like a Person of Great Importance, but I’m not yet convinced that he is. He IS entertaining, which is helpful in a guide, but light on facts, which is not.
The Bodleian Library is beautiful and historical and shut down because of exams. It seems to function a bit like the Library of Congress – it receives copies of all published books. I wish I had looked up the cataloging scheme for the British Library System – surely they don’t use LoC? I can’t get to the stacks to find out. (Post trip note – they switched over to LoC recently. Would love to know more about that.)
The tour people are sorting out. There is one who told me that without a hair dryer in her room her hair “dries like yours” which I’m pretty sure is not a compliment. I quite like the sisters – one is a retired science teacher and the other a retired nurse. One lives in Seattle and the other in Phoenix. They are liberal of mind and quite entertaining.
We have a cluster from Connecticut and two ladies from Fresno. Hair comment lady told me there were too many people from California for her taste and that her home city of Pittsburgh has quite temperate weather and it’s one of the best places to live in the U.S. I’m not going to challenge her belief. We Californians know temperate weather and Pittsburgh ain’t it.
It is hot, SO HOT and we weren’t expecting this heat. Santa leads us on a forced march through covered markets, down narrow roads, up the main drag and barely stops for a breath. We end up at Magadelen college and I see actual punters on the river. Cross off another literary reference for Debbie.
The college is a feast for the eyes and it’s not hard to imagine legions of students laying out on the grass, drinking lemonade in the canteen, checking in at the gate. If only I had some water, it would be perfect.
The group splits up at that point for an hour or so of Oxford exploration. I really wish I could visit the Ashmoleon Museum which has a pre-Raphaelite exhibit going on, but the thought of trekking all the way across town in the heat for a quick in and out defeats me. We follow our tour guide back up the main road and I am distracted by an air conditioned gift shop. And here’s where some Oxford magic takes place. As I’m checking out, the sales clerk is squinting and peering at me. She abruptly asks me:
“What is ‘B’”
“B?”
“B”
I realize she is referring to my hat.
“’B’ means ‘Be’”
“What does it refer to?”
“Be better than average” – I point to the explanation printed under the mathematical equation (take THAT V&A)
“OH!” she explodes into laughter “It’s a meme!! I’m a maths student and I was trying to work it out!!”
Only in Oxford.
Corgi and a Cuppa Tea 