'Who's up for a pub quiz tonight?'
4-5 people affirm.
3 hours pass.
'How about we go to Thirsty Meeples?'
'Yeah! yeah, great idea!'
So that night at about 20:30, we rock up to the Thirsty Meeples, a fine new establishment in Gloucester Green. Because it's a glass fronted outfit, we can immediately see we'll have trouble getting a table. Nonetheless, in we parade, greeted not only by the bright green walls and dramatic fluorescent lighting, but also by the bar manager, who helpfully points out a free table in the corner. We have a seat. As we wait for stragglers to show up, we order drinks, discuss strategy, and ponder when the staff will get things started. At last, everyone has arrived. The milkshakes and hot chocolates arrive at our table and finally the game guru wanders over to our table.
'So, what are we playing today?'
Now if you, the reader, are a particular type of geek and you knew that a meeple is a person's pawn in a board game, than you will have already probably deduced that Oxford's newest and most popular establishment is not actually a pub, but a board game cafe.
Yes, last year we read Shakespeare and this year we're playing board games.
At Thirsty Meeples, you and your friends get the benefit of unlimited board gaming for the unfathomable price of £3.50. The cafe claims to own over 1500 board games, which if you saw the almost floor-to-ceiling shelves along the room's perimeter, provides the sensation of a scientist stepping into the Bodleian's main library. This is why the cafe has a number of game gurus on staff.
'Uhh... we were thinking something in the "light strategy" category?'
'Ok, great. Let me go pull a couple off the shelves and we'll get you started'
The first time we went, we opted for party type games; they recommended Wits and Wagers (trivia) and Dixit (pictorial Balderdash), which we followed up with The Game of Things and Bananagrams. On this occasion, the guru brought over a pair of games.
'I have two potential options for you guys. The first is called Tsuro and the goal of the game is to be the last person to be forced off the board as you build tracks in and around each other. The second game is called Incan Gold, where you go on expeditions into an Incan temple and try to escape with the most treasure. Do either of these sound fun?'
Agreeing, the guru taught us both games, which proved enjoyable. Since then we have been one further time, when we went in with a heavy strategy game in mind, Small World. The guru on that occasion was hesitant to teach us such a game at 20:30, but we insisted. I think the fact that we learned and completed the game in 3 hours will help show them that we belong with the hard core board gamers; hopefully we'll have more tricky games in our future visits.
In fact, outside of Thirsty Meeples, we've been hitting the board games pretty hard for much of the last six months. Led by our intrepid housemate Liam, we have developed quite a house repertoire of games. Our favourites are Settlers of Catan, Terra Mystica, 7 Wonders, and Avalon, but the house has also dabbled in more complex strategy games such as The Game of Thrones board game, Battlestar Galactica Game, and Netrunner.
Ok, ok, I know what you're thinking. Yes, we are geeks. We accept... no... embrace it. But don't worry, I'm still making progress on my research (I was accepted to a June conference in Portugal this week!), and still doing ballroom (Laila and I have been practicing in preparation for the start of the year). Last week Ellie, Liam, and I (housemates) punted almost 2.5 miles up the Cherwell on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon before having roast dinner and sticky toffee pudding (oh yes!!) at the Royal Oak. Yesterday I even hosted my lab for a birthday dinner. My French lab partner made lamb tagine. We also had roasted veg, hummous, homemade rolls, and two homemade birthday cakes. Hopefully this is proof that I do have a life outside of board games ;-)
Really, I just haven't had MCR stuff to do... yet. But alas, today is Sunday, the start of 0th week Michaelmas, my third fall term in Oxford. Where has the tempest fugit-ed?! The welcome dinner is tonight, so I am looking forward to inducting a new group of freshers this week. Hopefully we'll have some good ones.
Well, time to go clean up the mess from last night. Everyone on the home front should keep in touch; it would be great to hear from you! Meanwhile, anyone in Oxford want to play some board games?
PS - Has anyone ever been to Iceland? I'm going in December and need recommendations. The challenge? I will only have 12 hours of sunlight distributed across three days, so I'll need to plan my time wisely. If you have ideas, please speak up!
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Flight of the Grouse
Salutations, friends!
Alas, 3 months have passed since my last elaboration on life in England. When I last wrote, I was gearing up for the last few weeks of term, which proved to be such a race that I have taken months to return to whatever may be best identified as 'normal'. So, therefore, let me take a few moments to first recap the end of the year, but more importantly to highlight this summer's travels.
In a nutshell, term ended with a plethora of fun activities. I played several games with the MCR cricket team en route to a modest but satisfactory .500 record. In the last match I even hit a 'four' which is like the combination of a ground rule double and a grand slam in baseball. I also celebrated a birthday before the end of term, for which I desired to do nothing but play croquet in the warm sunshine, eat take-away Indian curry, and watch the movie Inception with friends. In the run up to the Presidential hand-over, the MCR welcomed the Selwyn crew to Keble, inviting them to a special summer dinner in hall and showing them all around Oxford. The MCR also hosted its last bop of the year - a silent disco - the same week I passed over the reigns of leadership. Hooray for handing over!
So, you've just spent a year at the head of an Oxford MCR... what do you do next? Travel! The weekend following the handover, I hopped on a plane for a weekend in Belfast, Northern Ireland. My travel companion was another American in Keble, Kristy. On Friday and Saturday night, we actually stayed just outside of Belfast in the small, historic, coastal village of Carrickfergus. At one point its domineering castle figured prominently in the defense of Northern Ireland, but today only wax Redcoats are guarding the towers. Our excitement for Saturday was to hop on a coach to tour of some of the main sights along the so-called Antrim Coast on the Irish Sea. A typical misty, overcast day was the perfect backdrop for the vivid green glens and bluish-grey sea. Our first stop was the Carrick-a-rede bridge. This heritage site is based solely on the 50-foot rope bridge that crosses from the mainland to a rocky outcrop, some 100 feet over the thundering water. I gather that a bridge (formerly just 3 lines of rope) has been on the site for centuries, although now a slightly more sturdy wood plank and rope bridge has been installed. Don't worry, it still fluctuates plenty for my research!
We also visited the Giant's Causeway, a peculiar basalt formation where innumerable hexagonal columns have been extruded from the earth by tectonic forces. These columns, each 16-24 inches across, have created a coastline resembling the common optical illusion of the inverted cubes. The hexagonal columns of different heights thus invite all visitors to traverse them like stepping stones, walking like children over a garden path. I think this was both Kristy's and my favourite stop of the day. We had a great deal of fun. After a stop at the Bushmill's Irish whiskey distillery for lunch and a tasting, the coach hit the road back to Belfast, where Kristy had her first fish-and-chips dinner since she started in Oxford. Luckily, the place we picked turned out to be quite tasty. We even had a humourous exchange with the waiter over the differences between brown, white, wheat, and wheaten bread. For the record, we established that brown and wheat are the same. Wheaten bread is what many of us would call Irish Soda Bread, which is superior to all the others.
On Sunday, I parted ways with Kristy who had an early flight back to England (she also flew into Belfast a half day ahead of me on Friday), and embarked on a circumnavigation of Belfast. The city resembles Baltimore in many ways with its significant shipping and manufacturing influences, profuse brick architecture, etc. I began by walking through Queen's University which had brick architecture that resembled neither Keble nor NC State. Nonetheless, the brick was stunning. I then took a walk through the Ulster Museum, a national museum located in the University's botanic gardens. It was particularly notable for tracing the complicated history of the region in a clear manner. Still, I left with my mind swimming in a hopeless attempt to keep the important facts and figures straight. Thus, I walked via the crowded St. George's Market across town to the Titanic museum for something completely different. This museum filled a towering building near where the ocean liner was originally built. It outlines the construction history of the Olympic class, which included the Titanic. It was interactive without being overwhelming, so I quite enjoyed it.
Finally, after yet another walk across town, I decided to cross into West Belfast to see the peace wall. In preface, throughout the weekend I had seen nothing but British flags around Northern Ireland, so I assumed the political situation was calm and resolute. One could imagine my surprise, therefore, when upon crossing the bridge into West Belfast I was met with a barrage of Irish Republic flags, politically charged murals, and posters highlighting the difference in riot squad weaponry. Wow. Having never been in a place of active political protest, I confess to being a bit scared. I picked up my pace to get to the wall, passing along the way an IRA memorial to civilians who died during the Troubles. The wall itself was shocking. One doesn't expect to see a 30-foot high concrete and barbed wire wall in the middle of a neighborhood of a prominent western country, but there it was. Still creeped out, I turned and immediately set off back towards Belfast city centre. Thankfully my only setback was a pair of men on the other side of the road asking me for something. Their accent was so thick I had no idea what they were saying, and in my heightened state of alert I did not particularly wish to stick around and find out... so I didn't. I'm sure they afterward must have had a good laugh at me, but I sure didn't find it funny at the time!
So that was Belfast. A fascinating city for its massive differences from Dublin and its layered history of political and religious instability. Really, I wouldn't mind going back to learn more. Ignorance may be bliss at times, but it also leads to misunderstanding. Cold leads to fear, fear leads to hate, and hate leads to the dark side. Or something like that.
The next weekend I went home for some old fashioned Americana. Fourth of July at home with the old high school and church friends before a pair of weeks in sunny New England. It should not have surprised me, but I was shocked to realize that all the town names in New England actually ARE English names. Obviously. The trip featured some hiking, some deep sea fishing, a fair bit of genealogy (apparently I have Mayflower relations on both sides? cool!), and a trip along Cape Cod. I also ate a lot of local seafood and sat around to enjoy myself. It was brilliant.
There was no rest for the resting though! The first weekend back in England, my housemate Ellie and I went out to the Cotswolds with another Keble friend. The plan for the day was a bit of hiking in the country around Winchcombe. We saw the ruins of a medieval abbey and had tea and scones with fresh jam in an orchard. The fields of barley beckoned and we happily answered the call. We even had a fly-by from the Red Arrows RAF demonstration team!
Still not taking a weekend off, I spent the following weekend in Paris visiting my Blackpool dance partner, Denny. I nabbed a Eurostar on a Thursday night, so we dropped my stuff and went out to a cafe to catch up. Denny has been working for UNESCO this summer, so on Friday after lunch, she showed me around the headquarters, located in the heart of Paris. From the top floor, one has a brilliant view of the Eiffel Tower past the Ecole Militaire. I also checked out Victor Hugo's mansion and enjoyed a nice long walk across town. On Saturday, we decided to go Chateaux hopping in the Loire Valley. It was great to get outside of Paris again to see these grand mansions. First we visited the imposing Chateau de Chambord, built primarily during the reign of Francis I. The chateau is dominated by four impressive round towers, which are positioned at the corners of the inner keep. Grandiose in every sense, it was well worth the effort (and audio guide) to have a look around. Second, we visited the Chateau de Cheverny, a much more modest estate. The Cheverny mansion, being significantly smaller, was probably more reasonably sized because it belonged to a military commander instead of a monarch. I thought it would be a lovely house to reside in, albeit still larger than any property I will ever own! Both Chateaux were lavish - a fine reason to have a visit!
Exhausted, we had a relaxing night by grabbing delicious ice cream and hitting the Montparnasse Tower, the tallest building in Paris. Naturally the view was splendid, even in the dark. We even saw the Eiffel Tower glitter twice we were there so long.
In the morning, Denny took me to a cafe called Angelina's on Ave du Rivoli, near the Louvre. Their decadent hot chocolate was even strong enough to put me off of a full breakfast - easily the strongest drinking chocolate I have ever set my taste buds on! Needing to exercise, we met one of Denny's friends and headed east on rented public bikes to the Vincennes park for a picnic! There's nothing better than French baguettes with a bit of cheese and salami; add the beautiful sunshine and this was no exception! It was great to just sit and chat in a park far enough away from the centre so that it was predominately filled with locals. After cycling the perimeter of the park and chateau, we then cycled back into town for gooey chocolate crepes in the Jardin du Luxembourg, the gardens of the Luxembourg palace. We had a glorious time, for sure.
Moving right along, I spent the following weekend in Oxford packing for the big move. It was finally time to change apartments, which proved to be a hassle in every sense. To make a long story short, we had to move into college for three days before our new lease started... so we moved all of our stuff twice in one week. It was bad.
Believe it or not, I finally made it to two quiet weekends in a row. On the second, I relaxed by playing a board game with Liam... six times. I lost five times, but hey, you can't win 'em all.
Last but not least... Scotland! I was very excited to finally travel with four of my housemates from the past year. Our six day tour was to take us to the heart of the highlands since we were staying in the Cairngorms National Park. The largest park in Great Britain, the Cairngorms also feature many of the highest peaks in the Isles. As a result, we were keen to take on a week of outdoor activities, ever hoping that the weather would remain friendly.
On the first day, we took it nice and easy, hiking up Cairn Gorm mountain. The mountain was around 1300m, but we climbed 600m (~1800 ft) from the parking lot to the top in just over an hour. Unfortunately, the summit was enshrouded in clouds, but the hike up provided excellent vistas to the north and east. Just below the cloud ceiling was a restaurant (and happy pack of reindeer!) where we grabbed lunch... and a warm funicular ride down. Cairn Gorm was quite windy and cold, so it was good to get back down to the car.
The next day we all packed into the car and drove to Loch Ness. The drive to the far end of the loch was about 2 hours from where we were staying, in which time we discovered an unnatural obsession for the Paul Simon song "Call me Al." The song still haunts me to this very evening. When we reached Fort Augustus at the far southwestern end of Loch Ness, we inspected a particularly noteworthy set of five locks which emptied into the loch. We also waded into the shore of the loch, skipped some stones, and ate our lunch. Thereafter, we drove along the northern edge of the 25-mile long loch up to Urquhart Castle, a 13th century ruins that dramatically stick out into the loch. At last we drove through Inverness on the northeastern end of the loch and headed south to return back to the Cairngorms. I thought it was a good day, though without Nessie's appearance I think the others considered that day the weakest.
Saturday was supposed to be our big hike of Ben Nevis, the highest peak in Great Britain. Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate so we altered our plans a bit. Thus we struck out in the morning for Loch Morlich, which lies at the base of Cairn Gorm mountain. Liam, Rebecca, and I took out a canoe while Sam and Ellie suited up and hired kayaks. The wind was fierce but the sun welcoming, so we had a delightful (albeit challenging) paddle around the loch. After the group maniacs went for a polar bear swim, we headed into the village of Aviemore for lunch at Mountain Cafe. Haddock and salmon chowder and a spiced hot chocolate were the perfect treat to shake off the chill of the wind. Returning home in the late afternoon, we had a pretty relaxing evening. Sam prepared a Scottish classic, "haggis, neeps, and tatties", for dinner. I read Burns' Ode to Haggis in my finest Scottish accent while Sam dramatically slashed open the Haggis at just the right moment, "warm, reekin', rich". The haggis took a little getting used to, but was delicious in the end. I even pulled out some leftovers for toast the following morning!
With Ben Nevis out of question, we ramped up our last two days to make the most of our outdoors experience. Thankfully the weather in the Cairngorms remained quite pleasant throughout our week, so we were able to do as we pleased. On Sunday, this involved a 20-mile mountain biking ride on the dirt tracks surrounding Loch Morlich and heading towards Aviemore. This rigorous cycle was quite a workout, but provided both picturesque views and a fair bit of isolation. As a matter of fact, 'isolation' is word I would use to describe most of the week. I've never seen a night sky so brilliant as I did the previous night... we felt a long way from the troubles of Oxford and the 'real world'. Anyway, if you ever get the chance to hire cycles in the Cairngorms (and you are in fair physical shape), do it. You will not regret it!
On our last day, we needed something nice and easy to shake off the stiffness of our cycle ride... so we went on a 10 mile hike, climbing 600m to the top of Carn an Fhreiceadian (878m), part of the Monadhliath range. If you can pronounce any of those words, you're a better person than I. Anyway, we hiked up from the town of Kingussie (pronounced like 'can - you - see'). Early on we left the woods, so about 85% of our hike traversed infinitely wide carpets of purple-ish green heather. Our peak and trail lay obviously before us, and as we climbed, the valley and distant Cairngorms became ever more visible behind us. Where on the first day we hit a distinct cloud ceiling, the clouds today seemed to be released from behind westerly peaks, like water squirting through a rickety wooden dam. So while the stiff wind was kind enough to bring us distant mists from the west, the sun still shone down from rich, blue skies behind us as we admired the broad, carpeted valleys of the east and south east. When we crested the ridge at the knob of Beinn Bhreac (843m), our exhaustion was rewarded with a rainbow in the northeastern valley ahead. The trail followed the ridge to the northwest up to our summit. We didn't stay here long since the wind was ferocious and the mist, well, wet. After regaining some shelter between the peaks, the walk was perfectly pleasant. We saw some sheep bounding through the heather and a few flocks of grouse fluttering between the bluffs.
All that was left on our Scottish adventure was to visit a whiskey distillery. Sitting in the Dalwhinnie tasting room, we recollected the day's hike and the week's adventures over the warmth of four varieties of scotch and some chocolates. The battering of the wind and the pelting of the mist gave tangible purpose for the existence of scotch whiskey. It was very warming.
That night, after one last look up at the stars between the sheep-like clouds, I crawled into bed sad to be leaving Scotland.
Back in wind-less Oxford, a pair of sultry days gave way to a single cooler day. A Christmas song ran through my head. Americans are back at school. Football has started...
Winter is coming.
Alas, 3 months have passed since my last elaboration on life in England. When I last wrote, I was gearing up for the last few weeks of term, which proved to be such a race that I have taken months to return to whatever may be best identified as 'normal'. So, therefore, let me take a few moments to first recap the end of the year, but more importantly to highlight this summer's travels.
In a nutshell, term ended with a plethora of fun activities. I played several games with the MCR cricket team en route to a modest but satisfactory .500 record. In the last match I even hit a 'four' which is like the combination of a ground rule double and a grand slam in baseball. I also celebrated a birthday before the end of term, for which I desired to do nothing but play croquet in the warm sunshine, eat take-away Indian curry, and watch the movie Inception with friends. In the run up to the Presidential hand-over, the MCR welcomed the Selwyn crew to Keble, inviting them to a special summer dinner in hall and showing them all around Oxford. The MCR also hosted its last bop of the year - a silent disco - the same week I passed over the reigns of leadership. Hooray for handing over!
So, you've just spent a year at the head of an Oxford MCR... what do you do next? Travel! The weekend following the handover, I hopped on a plane for a weekend in Belfast, Northern Ireland. My travel companion was another American in Keble, Kristy. On Friday and Saturday night, we actually stayed just outside of Belfast in the small, historic, coastal village of Carrickfergus. At one point its domineering castle figured prominently in the defense of Northern Ireland, but today only wax Redcoats are guarding the towers. Our excitement for Saturday was to hop on a coach to tour of some of the main sights along the so-called Antrim Coast on the Irish Sea. A typical misty, overcast day was the perfect backdrop for the vivid green glens and bluish-grey sea. Our first stop was the Carrick-a-rede bridge. This heritage site is based solely on the 50-foot rope bridge that crosses from the mainland to a rocky outcrop, some 100 feet over the thundering water. I gather that a bridge (formerly just 3 lines of rope) has been on the site for centuries, although now a slightly more sturdy wood plank and rope bridge has been installed. Don't worry, it still fluctuates plenty for my research!
We also visited the Giant's Causeway, a peculiar basalt formation where innumerable hexagonal columns have been extruded from the earth by tectonic forces. These columns, each 16-24 inches across, have created a coastline resembling the common optical illusion of the inverted cubes. The hexagonal columns of different heights thus invite all visitors to traverse them like stepping stones, walking like children over a garden path. I think this was both Kristy's and my favourite stop of the day. We had a great deal of fun. After a stop at the Bushmill's Irish whiskey distillery for lunch and a tasting, the coach hit the road back to Belfast, where Kristy had her first fish-and-chips dinner since she started in Oxford. Luckily, the place we picked turned out to be quite tasty. We even had a humourous exchange with the waiter over the differences between brown, white, wheat, and wheaten bread. For the record, we established that brown and wheat are the same. Wheaten bread is what many of us would call Irish Soda Bread, which is superior to all the others.
On Sunday, I parted ways with Kristy who had an early flight back to England (she also flew into Belfast a half day ahead of me on Friday), and embarked on a circumnavigation of Belfast. The city resembles Baltimore in many ways with its significant shipping and manufacturing influences, profuse brick architecture, etc. I began by walking through Queen's University which had brick architecture that resembled neither Keble nor NC State. Nonetheless, the brick was stunning. I then took a walk through the Ulster Museum, a national museum located in the University's botanic gardens. It was particularly notable for tracing the complicated history of the region in a clear manner. Still, I left with my mind swimming in a hopeless attempt to keep the important facts and figures straight. Thus, I walked via the crowded St. George's Market across town to the Titanic museum for something completely different. This museum filled a towering building near where the ocean liner was originally built. It outlines the construction history of the Olympic class, which included the Titanic. It was interactive without being overwhelming, so I quite enjoyed it.
Finally, after yet another walk across town, I decided to cross into West Belfast to see the peace wall. In preface, throughout the weekend I had seen nothing but British flags around Northern Ireland, so I assumed the political situation was calm and resolute. One could imagine my surprise, therefore, when upon crossing the bridge into West Belfast I was met with a barrage of Irish Republic flags, politically charged murals, and posters highlighting the difference in riot squad weaponry. Wow. Having never been in a place of active political protest, I confess to being a bit scared. I picked up my pace to get to the wall, passing along the way an IRA memorial to civilians who died during the Troubles. The wall itself was shocking. One doesn't expect to see a 30-foot high concrete and barbed wire wall in the middle of a neighborhood of a prominent western country, but there it was. Still creeped out, I turned and immediately set off back towards Belfast city centre. Thankfully my only setback was a pair of men on the other side of the road asking me for something. Their accent was so thick I had no idea what they were saying, and in my heightened state of alert I did not particularly wish to stick around and find out... so I didn't. I'm sure they afterward must have had a good laugh at me, but I sure didn't find it funny at the time!
So that was Belfast. A fascinating city for its massive differences from Dublin and its layered history of political and religious instability. Really, I wouldn't mind going back to learn more. Ignorance may be bliss at times, but it also leads to misunderstanding. Cold leads to fear, fear leads to hate, and hate leads to the dark side. Or something like that.
The next weekend I went home for some old fashioned Americana. Fourth of July at home with the old high school and church friends before a pair of weeks in sunny New England. It should not have surprised me, but I was shocked to realize that all the town names in New England actually ARE English names. Obviously. The trip featured some hiking, some deep sea fishing, a fair bit of genealogy (apparently I have Mayflower relations on both sides? cool!), and a trip along Cape Cod. I also ate a lot of local seafood and sat around to enjoy myself. It was brilliant.
There was no rest for the resting though! The first weekend back in England, my housemate Ellie and I went out to the Cotswolds with another Keble friend. The plan for the day was a bit of hiking in the country around Winchcombe. We saw the ruins of a medieval abbey and had tea and scones with fresh jam in an orchard. The fields of barley beckoned and we happily answered the call. We even had a fly-by from the Red Arrows RAF demonstration team!
Still not taking a weekend off, I spent the following weekend in Paris visiting my Blackpool dance partner, Denny. I nabbed a Eurostar on a Thursday night, so we dropped my stuff and went out to a cafe to catch up. Denny has been working for UNESCO this summer, so on Friday after lunch, she showed me around the headquarters, located in the heart of Paris. From the top floor, one has a brilliant view of the Eiffel Tower past the Ecole Militaire. I also checked out Victor Hugo's mansion and enjoyed a nice long walk across town. On Saturday, we decided to go Chateaux hopping in the Loire Valley. It was great to get outside of Paris again to see these grand mansions. First we visited the imposing Chateau de Chambord, built primarily during the reign of Francis I. The chateau is dominated by four impressive round towers, which are positioned at the corners of the inner keep. Grandiose in every sense, it was well worth the effort (and audio guide) to have a look around. Second, we visited the Chateau de Cheverny, a much more modest estate. The Cheverny mansion, being significantly smaller, was probably more reasonably sized because it belonged to a military commander instead of a monarch. I thought it would be a lovely house to reside in, albeit still larger than any property I will ever own! Both Chateaux were lavish - a fine reason to have a visit!
Exhausted, we had a relaxing night by grabbing delicious ice cream and hitting the Montparnasse Tower, the tallest building in Paris. Naturally the view was splendid, even in the dark. We even saw the Eiffel Tower glitter twice we were there so long.
In the morning, Denny took me to a cafe called Angelina's on Ave du Rivoli, near the Louvre. Their decadent hot chocolate was even strong enough to put me off of a full breakfast - easily the strongest drinking chocolate I have ever set my taste buds on! Needing to exercise, we met one of Denny's friends and headed east on rented public bikes to the Vincennes park for a picnic! There's nothing better than French baguettes with a bit of cheese and salami; add the beautiful sunshine and this was no exception! It was great to just sit and chat in a park far enough away from the centre so that it was predominately filled with locals. After cycling the perimeter of the park and chateau, we then cycled back into town for gooey chocolate crepes in the Jardin du Luxembourg, the gardens of the Luxembourg palace. We had a glorious time, for sure.
Moving right along, I spent the following weekend in Oxford packing for the big move. It was finally time to change apartments, which proved to be a hassle in every sense. To make a long story short, we had to move into college for three days before our new lease started... so we moved all of our stuff twice in one week. It was bad.
Believe it or not, I finally made it to two quiet weekends in a row. On the second, I relaxed by playing a board game with Liam... six times. I lost five times, but hey, you can't win 'em all.
Last but not least... Scotland! I was very excited to finally travel with four of my housemates from the past year. Our six day tour was to take us to the heart of the highlands since we were staying in the Cairngorms National Park. The largest park in Great Britain, the Cairngorms also feature many of the highest peaks in the Isles. As a result, we were keen to take on a week of outdoor activities, ever hoping that the weather would remain friendly.
On the first day, we took it nice and easy, hiking up Cairn Gorm mountain. The mountain was around 1300m, but we climbed 600m (~1800 ft) from the parking lot to the top in just over an hour. Unfortunately, the summit was enshrouded in clouds, but the hike up provided excellent vistas to the north and east. Just below the cloud ceiling was a restaurant (and happy pack of reindeer!) where we grabbed lunch... and a warm funicular ride down. Cairn Gorm was quite windy and cold, so it was good to get back down to the car.
The next day we all packed into the car and drove to Loch Ness. The drive to the far end of the loch was about 2 hours from where we were staying, in which time we discovered an unnatural obsession for the Paul Simon song "Call me Al." The song still haunts me to this very evening. When we reached Fort Augustus at the far southwestern end of Loch Ness, we inspected a particularly noteworthy set of five locks which emptied into the loch. We also waded into the shore of the loch, skipped some stones, and ate our lunch. Thereafter, we drove along the northern edge of the 25-mile long loch up to Urquhart Castle, a 13th century ruins that dramatically stick out into the loch. At last we drove through Inverness on the northeastern end of the loch and headed south to return back to the Cairngorms. I thought it was a good day, though without Nessie's appearance I think the others considered that day the weakest.
Saturday was supposed to be our big hike of Ben Nevis, the highest peak in Great Britain. Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate so we altered our plans a bit. Thus we struck out in the morning for Loch Morlich, which lies at the base of Cairn Gorm mountain. Liam, Rebecca, and I took out a canoe while Sam and Ellie suited up and hired kayaks. The wind was fierce but the sun welcoming, so we had a delightful (albeit challenging) paddle around the loch. After the group maniacs went for a polar bear swim, we headed into the village of Aviemore for lunch at Mountain Cafe. Haddock and salmon chowder and a spiced hot chocolate were the perfect treat to shake off the chill of the wind. Returning home in the late afternoon, we had a pretty relaxing evening. Sam prepared a Scottish classic, "haggis, neeps, and tatties", for dinner. I read Burns' Ode to Haggis in my finest Scottish accent while Sam dramatically slashed open the Haggis at just the right moment, "warm, reekin', rich". The haggis took a little getting used to, but was delicious in the end. I even pulled out some leftovers for toast the following morning!
With Ben Nevis out of question, we ramped up our last two days to make the most of our outdoors experience. Thankfully the weather in the Cairngorms remained quite pleasant throughout our week, so we were able to do as we pleased. On Sunday, this involved a 20-mile mountain biking ride on the dirt tracks surrounding Loch Morlich and heading towards Aviemore. This rigorous cycle was quite a workout, but provided both picturesque views and a fair bit of isolation. As a matter of fact, 'isolation' is word I would use to describe most of the week. I've never seen a night sky so brilliant as I did the previous night... we felt a long way from the troubles of Oxford and the 'real world'. Anyway, if you ever get the chance to hire cycles in the Cairngorms (and you are in fair physical shape), do it. You will not regret it!
On our last day, we needed something nice and easy to shake off the stiffness of our cycle ride... so we went on a 10 mile hike, climbing 600m to the top of Carn an Fhreiceadian (878m), part of the Monadhliath range. If you can pronounce any of those words, you're a better person than I. Anyway, we hiked up from the town of Kingussie (pronounced like 'can - you - see'). Early on we left the woods, so about 85% of our hike traversed infinitely wide carpets of purple-ish green heather. Our peak and trail lay obviously before us, and as we climbed, the valley and distant Cairngorms became ever more visible behind us. Where on the first day we hit a distinct cloud ceiling, the clouds today seemed to be released from behind westerly peaks, like water squirting through a rickety wooden dam. So while the stiff wind was kind enough to bring us distant mists from the west, the sun still shone down from rich, blue skies behind us as we admired the broad, carpeted valleys of the east and south east. When we crested the ridge at the knob of Beinn Bhreac (843m), our exhaustion was rewarded with a rainbow in the northeastern valley ahead. The trail followed the ridge to the northwest up to our summit. We didn't stay here long since the wind was ferocious and the mist, well, wet. After regaining some shelter between the peaks, the walk was perfectly pleasant. We saw some sheep bounding through the heather and a few flocks of grouse fluttering between the bluffs.
All that was left on our Scottish adventure was to visit a whiskey distillery. Sitting in the Dalwhinnie tasting room, we recollected the day's hike and the week's adventures over the warmth of four varieties of scotch and some chocolates. The battering of the wind and the pelting of the mist gave tangible purpose for the existence of scotch whiskey. It was very warming.
That night, after one last look up at the stars between the sheep-like clouds, I crawled into bed sad to be leaving Scotland.
Back in wind-less Oxford, a pair of sultry days gave way to a single cooler day. A Christmas song ran through my head. Americans are back at school. Football has started...
Winter is coming.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Summer 8s, Cantabridgium, Wales, The Ball, and Trinity Treats
Hello Blogger, my old friend. I've come to talk with you again.
Perhaps you feel like this is the sound of silence, but I assure you: it is anything but. Lucky for you, the reader, my unintentional respite from blogging means that you get more of the exciting cultural differences between the infamous Oxford Bubble and the rest of the world, and less of the mediocre day to day reporting that reads, "Today I went to the lab. I wrote code. I met with my supervisor. I wrote MCR emails. I went to dance practice. I went to the MCR. I went home." Trust me, that happened plenty in the last month.
You know, one would think that life in Trinity Term would slow down a bit. The year is coming to a close and everyone starts to wind things up. But no. As a matter of fact, everything picks up. So where do I start? Perhaps yesterday, when all my troubles seemed so far away.
It was absolutely beautiful for once, so with the overdue indicator of the arrival of summer (perhaps encouraged by an almost-forgotten US holiday weekend), I made the long walk across town to the banks of the Isis (part of the Thames) for the annual Summer 8s race. This boat race - which is essentially Trinity Term cuppers rowing - is a sure highlight of the Oxford experience. Raced in each of four days, the competition consists of 13 14-boat heats, where the sole purpose is to catch the boat in front of you before you are caught from behind. It is hard to imagine, but crews train daily for months in preparation for their four 7-minute heats. I get the sense that the 6:30 am daily practices are as much an exercise in teamwork as they are in physical strength and endurance. It all sounds rather torturous until you come to the banks of the Isis on a beautiful Saturday and behold the culture of Summer 8s. Dozens of colleges, each with octets of spandex-clad rowers. Long, sleek boats with blades (oars) decorated in college crests. The pageantry is brilliant.
That's not even to mention the renowned homeless guy who - in shabby clothing with missing teeth and a slightly menacing demeanour - innocently stands upstream of the boathouses with a radio cheering on his favourites. He stands juxtaposed to an old, white, wooden river barge belonging to St. John's College, on which the college hosts a champagne and live jazz reception for it's older alumni. Such is Oxford.
The spectacle is undoubtedly impressive. It was in that setting - under streaming college banners hoisted atop each boathouse - that I watched Summer 8s. The men's and women's boat were both quite good this week, reaching their respective first divisions. The women even reached the highest Keble has ever been in the rankings. It was a great day.
Moving backwards, last weekend was also quite fantastic. It saw the first leg - or the 'away' leg as we say - of an exchange between the Keble MCR and the MCR of our sister college, Selwyn College Cambridge. On Friday, 14 of us drove out to Cambridge where the Selwyn MCR President showed us around their college and town. I daresay Cambridge is much prettier and much quainter than Oxford. Their city centre is much greener than ours, and the shops are a bit less touristy. Where Oxford feels like a small city, Cambridge feels like an even smaller town. Then again, perhaps that makes sense given that Oxford has industry on its outskirts, which contrasts to Cambridge's pastoral scenery.
Another major difference between the two famous towns is the architecture. Oxford is built out of distinctive honey-coloured limestone. It's everywhere, and relatively homogeneous. Cambridge, on the other hand, is a brick and stone mecca. Of course Selwyn - being Keble's sister college - is built brick upon brick (and oh, how beautiful their bricks are!), but unlike Keble, it one among many brick-constructed colleges.
Anyway, while the dinner in college was nice, the highlight of the trip was certainly punting in the river Cam. Over time, the biggest Cambridge colleges bought up property along the banks of the Cam, so taking a punt down the river allows one to have a glimpse inside all of Cambridge's heavy hitters: Kings, Trinity, St. Johns, Clare, Queens, and Darwin, each with a stunning stone footbridge to pass under. Unfortunately it also stands to reason that if this is one of the best ways to see the colleges, the river is packed with punts. Most had hired tour guides, but as a proficient punter myself, I took the helm of our fine vessel.
Geek moment: if you've ever punted in either Oxford or Cambridge, you would know there is a great deal of controversy over which town sports the best method of punting. You see, most punts have a front and a back. That is to say, the back of the boat has a well in which the punter can stand. The decking provides extra grip, which is crucial when you are standing in a boat. The front of the boat does not have a well, but a shiny wooden deck instead. In Oxford, we punt from the back, like normal self-respecting people. Those backward Cambridge people, however, turn the boat 180 degrees and punt from the front! Why would you do that?! Perhaps standing on the wooden deck brings the punter higher out of the water, but one little slip and in you go. That doesn't sound fun!
Well ok... to be honest, I think it works fine either way. They apparently apply a special finish to the deck so that even though it's shiny, one's shoes grip extremely well. I actually don't think it makes much difference.... but I still think those Cambridge people are a bit silly.
So we returned from Cambridge on Saturday evening, just in time to watch Eurovision in the MCR. What's Eurovision? I had never heard of it before last year, but it is a singing competition where every European country submits an original piece of vocal music, which is performed on live TV across Europe, then voted on by citizens of every country. The winning country gets to host the competition in the following year. And while some of the acts are really good, some are also surprisingly dreadful. If you get the chance, go on youtube.com and look up Azerbaijan Eurovision 2013 and Denmark Eurovision 2013 as examples of fantastic pieces. Greece contributed a song called "Alcohol is Free" which was pretty funny and also worth watching. In contrast, France's contribution was disastrous, so I would only recommend watching it if you're a masochist ;-)
In the meantime, the guy who drove our rental car to Cambridge recognized that we couldn't return the car on Sunday because the place was closed... so we might as well take a spontaneous road trip! Where did we decide to go? Wales! A Welsh friend recommended Caerphilly Castle because it is basically just over the border into Wales, and the largest Welsh castle. And yes, it is home to Caerphilly Cheese, which is apparently quite popular.
Six Things I learned in Wales:
1. Welsh is crazy. Do you know how Caerdydd is pronounced? Cardiff. The capital of Wales. You get words like 'llwybr cyhoeddus' which apparently means public footpath and 'Y Newadd Fawr' for The Great Hall. We even drove past 'Amgueddfa Werin Cymru' which is apparently the Museum of Welsh Life (and in case you're trying to figure that out, Cymru is Wales, not Werin, which is life), but we didn't have time to stop.
2. Wales is beautiful. Sheep supposedly outnumber humans, so there's plenty of green for them to graze on.
3. Caerphilly castle is mammoth. With a proper moat around a lake, and 4 levels of fortifications, the castle must have been nigh unto impenetrable. Too bad the castle was built starting in 1268 and disused after 1327. *Slaps forehead*
4. The streets of Caerphilly must have also been used to keep out the English. Even with a GPS and the castle in sight, we got lost. Then trapped in a maze of one-way streets. Oops.
5. Stores in small towns are closed on Sunday. Good luck getting local food. Good thing there was an open Tesco grocery store, which had locally made Welsh Cakes (see below) and Caerphilly cheese.
6. WELSH CAKES. Think a cross between an American pancake's shape and a scone's texture and sultanas. They're only about 3 inches in diameter, nice and portable. They're SO good! Need to learn to make Welsh Cakes... (@Jenna, if you read this, that's a challenge.)
Whew, two weekends down. What now? I think I've talked about Black Tie Dinners before, so I won't rehash that this time, but I will briefly give mention to this year's Keble Ball. If you recall, last year I took Jenna to the ball with me. We had a fantastic time, although the weather was dreadful and the crowds impenetrable. Well this year Keble managed to sort out both of those things. The skies were clear and calm, so while it was a bit chilly, it was as good as we could hope for! The ball committee also distributed fewer tickets this year, meaning that one did not have to push their way into tents or up to vendors, and it was a much more relaxed atmosphere. Another benefit to the evening was getting to see some old friends from last year, Madeleine, Frank, and Radhika. As part of our old Acland crew, we have really missed them this year, so it was great to welcome them back to Oxford!
While I could wrap up this blog by discussing our exchange dinner with Exeter College (which was delicious) or the Varsity Match (in which we lost to Cambridge badly, but a new partner - Laila - and I danced quite well), or Dancesport Cuppers (in which not only did we win the Jive, but Keble won overall!), I will close with a mention of a trip to the Globe. Back at the beginning of term, a group of us headed into London to see The Tempest presented at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. This world famous theatre overlooks the Thames in the heart of town, and puts on regular performances of Shakespeare's works (along with some other stuff on the side).
But the Globe is no ordinary theatre. Perhaps Shakespeare's Cylinder would be a better name for it. Only a couple stories tall, the Globe has a sheer white exterior topped with a sloping thatched roof. Stepping through the doors, you walk up a short concrete ramp only to realize that the entire structure is skeletal. At the top of the ramp you walk onto a large, round, concrete standing area. In front is an imposing stage, the bottom of which is at shoulder height, but dominated by two incredible columns which frame the proscenium and hoist the stage roof. I distinguish the 'stage roof' because you then realise that the circular standing area is otherwise open to the sky! In fact, the sky itself is framed by the crest of the thatched roof, which merely covers the circular wooden framework that makes up the sparse 5-row, three-tiered grandstand (if one could even call it that?). As a 'groundling' (i.e., we paid for cheap standing tickets, as most of Shakespeare's common-folk audience would have done), we found a nice plot of concrete and angled our eyes towards the stage.
They say that if Shakespeare is hard to read to yourself, it is much easier to understand when reading aloud. I now add that if it's hard to understand reading aloud, it makes perfect sense when acted out on stage. While a couple references were still lost, the character and persona brought by these actors was absolutely incredible. They were almost perfectly audible even without microphones and - combined with the sound effects of a percussion heavy orchestra - easily captivated my attention. And this is what was amazing. Here in the centre of busy London, it was so easy to step not just into a show, but into another time period. I was simultaneously felt as if I was in both Shakespeare's era and the plot of his show. I imagine that such an experience can scarce be provided by any other theatre, even with such a talented cast.
Alas, these are the experiences legends are made of. More times than not over the last term, I have found myself admiring how much I am enjoying Oxford and England in general. The lifestyle here is not just profoundly unique, but continually surprising. From the joy of a warm sunny day after a week of rain, to the unanticipated excitement of Summer 8s, it is a city that continues to keep on giving.
Speaking of which, I'm off to go play croquet and drink Pimm's on Keble's otherwise forbidden Liddon Quad. Wish me luck.
CULTURE CORNER
Word of the Day
Downtown, n. A strictly American word, colloquially meaning the center of a big city. The British have no comprehension of this word, either in context to London or anywhere else.
Perhaps you feel like this is the sound of silence, but I assure you: it is anything but. Lucky for you, the reader, my unintentional respite from blogging means that you get more of the exciting cultural differences between the infamous Oxford Bubble and the rest of the world, and less of the mediocre day to day reporting that reads, "Today I went to the lab. I wrote code. I met with my supervisor. I wrote MCR emails. I went to dance practice. I went to the MCR. I went home." Trust me, that happened plenty in the last month.
You know, one would think that life in Trinity Term would slow down a bit. The year is coming to a close and everyone starts to wind things up. But no. As a matter of fact, everything picks up. So where do I start? Perhaps yesterday, when all my troubles seemed so far away.
It was absolutely beautiful for once, so with the overdue indicator of the arrival of summer (perhaps encouraged by an almost-forgotten US holiday weekend), I made the long walk across town to the banks of the Isis (part of the Thames) for the annual Summer 8s race. This boat race - which is essentially Trinity Term cuppers rowing - is a sure highlight of the Oxford experience. Raced in each of four days, the competition consists of 13 14-boat heats, where the sole purpose is to catch the boat in front of you before you are caught from behind. It is hard to imagine, but crews train daily for months in preparation for their four 7-minute heats. I get the sense that the 6:30 am daily practices are as much an exercise in teamwork as they are in physical strength and endurance. It all sounds rather torturous until you come to the banks of the Isis on a beautiful Saturday and behold the culture of Summer 8s. Dozens of colleges, each with octets of spandex-clad rowers. Long, sleek boats with blades (oars) decorated in college crests. The pageantry is brilliant.
That's not even to mention the renowned homeless guy who - in shabby clothing with missing teeth and a slightly menacing demeanour - innocently stands upstream of the boathouses with a radio cheering on his favourites. He stands juxtaposed to an old, white, wooden river barge belonging to St. John's College, on which the college hosts a champagne and live jazz reception for it's older alumni. Such is Oxford.
The spectacle is undoubtedly impressive. It was in that setting - under streaming college banners hoisted atop each boathouse - that I watched Summer 8s. The men's and women's boat were both quite good this week, reaching their respective first divisions. The women even reached the highest Keble has ever been in the rankings. It was a great day.
Moving backwards, last weekend was also quite fantastic. It saw the first leg - or the 'away' leg as we say - of an exchange between the Keble MCR and the MCR of our sister college, Selwyn College Cambridge. On Friday, 14 of us drove out to Cambridge where the Selwyn MCR President showed us around their college and town. I daresay Cambridge is much prettier and much quainter than Oxford. Their city centre is much greener than ours, and the shops are a bit less touristy. Where Oxford feels like a small city, Cambridge feels like an even smaller town. Then again, perhaps that makes sense given that Oxford has industry on its outskirts, which contrasts to Cambridge's pastoral scenery.
Another major difference between the two famous towns is the architecture. Oxford is built out of distinctive honey-coloured limestone. It's everywhere, and relatively homogeneous. Cambridge, on the other hand, is a brick and stone mecca. Of course Selwyn - being Keble's sister college - is built brick upon brick (and oh, how beautiful their bricks are!), but unlike Keble, it one among many brick-constructed colleges.
Anyway, while the dinner in college was nice, the highlight of the trip was certainly punting in the river Cam. Over time, the biggest Cambridge colleges bought up property along the banks of the Cam, so taking a punt down the river allows one to have a glimpse inside all of Cambridge's heavy hitters: Kings, Trinity, St. Johns, Clare, Queens, and Darwin, each with a stunning stone footbridge to pass under. Unfortunately it also stands to reason that if this is one of the best ways to see the colleges, the river is packed with punts. Most had hired tour guides, but as a proficient punter myself, I took the helm of our fine vessel.
Geek moment: if you've ever punted in either Oxford or Cambridge, you would know there is a great deal of controversy over which town sports the best method of punting. You see, most punts have a front and a back. That is to say, the back of the boat has a well in which the punter can stand. The decking provides extra grip, which is crucial when you are standing in a boat. The front of the boat does not have a well, but a shiny wooden deck instead. In Oxford, we punt from the back, like normal self-respecting people. Those backward Cambridge people, however, turn the boat 180 degrees and punt from the front! Why would you do that?! Perhaps standing on the wooden deck brings the punter higher out of the water, but one little slip and in you go. That doesn't sound fun!
Well ok... to be honest, I think it works fine either way. They apparently apply a special finish to the deck so that even though it's shiny, one's shoes grip extremely well. I actually don't think it makes much difference.... but I still think those Cambridge people are a bit silly.
So we returned from Cambridge on Saturday evening, just in time to watch Eurovision in the MCR. What's Eurovision? I had never heard of it before last year, but it is a singing competition where every European country submits an original piece of vocal music, which is performed on live TV across Europe, then voted on by citizens of every country. The winning country gets to host the competition in the following year. And while some of the acts are really good, some are also surprisingly dreadful. If you get the chance, go on youtube.com and look up Azerbaijan Eurovision 2013 and Denmark Eurovision 2013 as examples of fantastic pieces. Greece contributed a song called "Alcohol is Free" which was pretty funny and also worth watching. In contrast, France's contribution was disastrous, so I would only recommend watching it if you're a masochist ;-)
In the meantime, the guy who drove our rental car to Cambridge recognized that we couldn't return the car on Sunday because the place was closed... so we might as well take a spontaneous road trip! Where did we decide to go? Wales! A Welsh friend recommended Caerphilly Castle because it is basically just over the border into Wales, and the largest Welsh castle. And yes, it is home to Caerphilly Cheese, which is apparently quite popular.
Six Things I learned in Wales:
1. Welsh is crazy. Do you know how Caerdydd is pronounced? Cardiff. The capital of Wales. You get words like 'llwybr cyhoeddus' which apparently means public footpath and 'Y Newadd Fawr' for The Great Hall. We even drove past 'Amgueddfa Werin Cymru' which is apparently the Museum of Welsh Life (and in case you're trying to figure that out, Cymru is Wales, not Werin, which is life), but we didn't have time to stop.
2. Wales is beautiful. Sheep supposedly outnumber humans, so there's plenty of green for them to graze on.
3. Caerphilly castle is mammoth. With a proper moat around a lake, and 4 levels of fortifications, the castle must have been nigh unto impenetrable. Too bad the castle was built starting in 1268 and disused after 1327. *Slaps forehead*
4. The streets of Caerphilly must have also been used to keep out the English. Even with a GPS and the castle in sight, we got lost. Then trapped in a maze of one-way streets. Oops.
5. Stores in small towns are closed on Sunday. Good luck getting local food. Good thing there was an open Tesco grocery store, which had locally made Welsh Cakes (see below) and Caerphilly cheese.
6. WELSH CAKES. Think a cross between an American pancake's shape and a scone's texture and sultanas. They're only about 3 inches in diameter, nice and portable. They're SO good! Need to learn to make Welsh Cakes... (@Jenna, if you read this, that's a challenge.)
Whew, two weekends down. What now? I think I've talked about Black Tie Dinners before, so I won't rehash that this time, but I will briefly give mention to this year's Keble Ball. If you recall, last year I took Jenna to the ball with me. We had a fantastic time, although the weather was dreadful and the crowds impenetrable. Well this year Keble managed to sort out both of those things. The skies were clear and calm, so while it was a bit chilly, it was as good as we could hope for! The ball committee also distributed fewer tickets this year, meaning that one did not have to push their way into tents or up to vendors, and it was a much more relaxed atmosphere. Another benefit to the evening was getting to see some old friends from last year, Madeleine, Frank, and Radhika. As part of our old Acland crew, we have really missed them this year, so it was great to welcome them back to Oxford!
While I could wrap up this blog by discussing our exchange dinner with Exeter College (which was delicious) or the Varsity Match (in which we lost to Cambridge badly, but a new partner - Laila - and I danced quite well), or Dancesport Cuppers (in which not only did we win the Jive, but Keble won overall!), I will close with a mention of a trip to the Globe. Back at the beginning of term, a group of us headed into London to see The Tempest presented at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. This world famous theatre overlooks the Thames in the heart of town, and puts on regular performances of Shakespeare's works (along with some other stuff on the side).
But the Globe is no ordinary theatre. Perhaps Shakespeare's Cylinder would be a better name for it. Only a couple stories tall, the Globe has a sheer white exterior topped with a sloping thatched roof. Stepping through the doors, you walk up a short concrete ramp only to realize that the entire structure is skeletal. At the top of the ramp you walk onto a large, round, concrete standing area. In front is an imposing stage, the bottom of which is at shoulder height, but dominated by two incredible columns which frame the proscenium and hoist the stage roof. I distinguish the 'stage roof' because you then realise that the circular standing area is otherwise open to the sky! In fact, the sky itself is framed by the crest of the thatched roof, which merely covers the circular wooden framework that makes up the sparse 5-row, three-tiered grandstand (if one could even call it that?). As a 'groundling' (i.e., we paid for cheap standing tickets, as most of Shakespeare's common-folk audience would have done), we found a nice plot of concrete and angled our eyes towards the stage.
They say that if Shakespeare is hard to read to yourself, it is much easier to understand when reading aloud. I now add that if it's hard to understand reading aloud, it makes perfect sense when acted out on stage. While a couple references were still lost, the character and persona brought by these actors was absolutely incredible. They were almost perfectly audible even without microphones and - combined with the sound effects of a percussion heavy orchestra - easily captivated my attention. And this is what was amazing. Here in the centre of busy London, it was so easy to step not just into a show, but into another time period. I was simultaneously felt as if I was in both Shakespeare's era and the plot of his show. I imagine that such an experience can scarce be provided by any other theatre, even with such a talented cast.
Alas, these are the experiences legends are made of. More times than not over the last term, I have found myself admiring how much I am enjoying Oxford and England in general. The lifestyle here is not just profoundly unique, but continually surprising. From the joy of a warm sunny day after a week of rain, to the unanticipated excitement of Summer 8s, it is a city that continues to keep on giving.
Speaking of which, I'm off to go play croquet and drink Pimm's on Keble's otherwise forbidden Liddon Quad. Wish me luck.
CULTURE CORNER
Word of the Day
Downtown, n. A strictly American word, colloquially meaning the center of a big city. The British have no comprehension of this word, either in context to London or anywhere else.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
A Day in the Life of an MCR President
You wake up.
Ugh. Not the alarm again. I hate that ring tone. *Snooze*
You wake up.
Ugh. Not the alarm again. I still hate that ring tone. Maybe one more time. *Snooze*
You wake up.
Ugh. Not the alarm again. Fine, I'll get up. *Dismiss*
Not feeling ready to get up, you stare across the room through the crack in the curtains. It's sunny. Going to be a good day. Grab the ipad, prop yourself up, and check Facebook. Hm. Someone posted a picture of their (dog/cat/horse/office/house/child).
You finally roll out of bed, 7:50 am. Stumble to the shower, noticing that it is in fact a beautiful late-April day. Spring finally came to Oxford.
Lethargic shower. You've been there.
After almost failing to choose a shirt for the day, you stumble back upstairs for breakfast.
Bagel. Plate. Knife. Spoon. Banana. Glass.
"Morning Ellie"
You enter the lounge. OJ. Yogurt. Cream Cheese.
"How's your day looking?"
Good. You look outside and realize it is incredibly sunny. First time you've been blinded this year.
Breakfast and banter over, clean the dishes, assess the empty fridge, and pick up 2.35 from the change pile for lunch. Then return for an extra 1.10 for dessert.
Backpack packed, you're off. Gonna be a good day. Gonna be a good day. Ok, it's actually a bit chilly in the shade. Arriving at the lab (I still can't believe they chose olive green as the new vinyl floor color. Blech.), you greet the two people who have arrived. 9:10 am.
Email. Ugh. Four emails about an exchange with a Cambridge MCR. Two emails about dance. Four emails about starting "rent negotiations" with the college. One MCR officer is stuck in Israel (airline strike) and another in South Africa (mechanical issues?). Vice President on holiday in Netherlands, but have an amazing treasurer and secretary. Pizza night tonight. And dance practice.
Responding to the first wave of messages, you get 'caught up.' You grab your notebook and computer and head to another building to teach a lab. Concrete bridge design. Lecture by your supervisor followed by hours of undergraduate challenges. Spending all day with the supervisor. Fun.
Hours pass. Students barely making progress. Lunch time. Queue for canteen ridiculous because you entered at the Undergrad rush instead of the Grad student lull (30 mins before hand). Return to your desk, finding no one around. They went out to eat in the parks - a beautiful sunny day. Open inbox. YIKES! More emails about the exchange, the officer stuck in Israel, the social events that can't get planned, rent negotiations, three rooms up for rent for next year, and some other miscellaneous spam. Ok, I have time. Plan meeting for 8pm, decline participation in pizza night because of dance practice.
All that sorted, just in time to head back to the undergrad lab. Two more hours, dozens more questions. Only one group gets a successful design. Great conversation with my supervisor in the meantime... and 13 pounds per hour isn't bad either. Back to desk. Still more emails. Up to 39 received on the day. Oh wait, here's one about setting a meeting time for next week. 40.
Leave lab. 5:20 pm. 30 minute walk to Iffley gym. Remember that you forgot a call that came while in the lab. Dancesport captain? That's weird. Call back... voicemail. Arrive at practice. Text message about when college fees are due. Who knows. Friday maybe?
PRACTICE..... *relaxes*
Coach wants to talk about things. So much for jive. Practice over, you walk back towards college. Return call from captain again. He's busy too? No kidding. Anyway, he wants to talk about... other things. Why me? Go figure.
You hang up the phone and duck into the MCR. Pizza carnage. Well, I guess that was successful... wouldn't have wanted anyone to starve because I had a slice (no matter, I ate a sandwich on the way to practice). Meeting begins: logistics of a dinner exchange with Cambridge. Walking home, a beautiful evening, 8:45 pm. Checks email on phone. Five more. Hm, never did send three other emails I needed to... and it looks like I need to be in lab by 9 tomorrow to sign off on the undergrads' designs. No matter.
House quiet. Internet barely works. Bake an easy-bake oven roll since Dave left the oven on. Housemates slowly converge on the lounge in our internet-less existence. You work on MCR stuff, while housemates talk about random happenings. As you resort to a dramatic reading of the opening sequence from the Lord of the Rings movies (epic, I assure you) to music, you receive another email: don't forget about the theatre trip we have this weekend! Oh yeah... need to organize transportation to the Globe Theatre to see The Tempest. Add that to the list for tomorrow.
Ok, sufficiently caught up for the moment! 45 emails in, 16 emails out. A full day in lab, a good dance practice, situations diffused, MCR running smoothly, socialised with housemates, and it was a sunny day to boot.
Last step, jot down a blog. Fathom feasibility of making macaroons (nope!) and tomorrow's schedule (UG lab, personal lab work, find technician, lunch with Warden, follow up with gait lab, social secretary meeting, dance practice, write unresolved emails (including the inevitable responses from tonight's messages), maybe read more 5 pages of Les Miserables if there's time).
12:20 am, email says another room is available for rent for next year...Whatever.
Brush teeth, wait for Liam's trademark expression ('Night guys!'), return to the bat cave for a nap. Sleep is instantaneous.
A brilliant day.
CULTURE CORNER
Word of the Day:
Ta! - Int. Colloquial for 'thank you!' Exclaimed alone or within a normal sentence. Ex. Ta for meeting up with me today!
Ugh. Not the alarm again. I hate that ring tone. *Snooze*
You wake up.
Ugh. Not the alarm again. I still hate that ring tone. Maybe one more time. *Snooze*
You wake up.
Ugh. Not the alarm again. Fine, I'll get up. *Dismiss*
Not feeling ready to get up, you stare across the room through the crack in the curtains. It's sunny. Going to be a good day. Grab the ipad, prop yourself up, and check Facebook. Hm. Someone posted a picture of their (dog/cat/horse/office/house/child).
You finally roll out of bed, 7:50 am. Stumble to the shower, noticing that it is in fact a beautiful late-April day. Spring finally came to Oxford.
Lethargic shower. You've been there.
After almost failing to choose a shirt for the day, you stumble back upstairs for breakfast.
Bagel. Plate. Knife. Spoon. Banana. Glass.
"Morning Ellie"
You enter the lounge. OJ. Yogurt. Cream Cheese.
"How's your day looking?"
Good. You look outside and realize it is incredibly sunny. First time you've been blinded this year.
Breakfast and banter over, clean the dishes, assess the empty fridge, and pick up 2.35 from the change pile for lunch. Then return for an extra 1.10 for dessert.
Backpack packed, you're off. Gonna be a good day. Gonna be a good day. Ok, it's actually a bit chilly in the shade. Arriving at the lab (I still can't believe they chose olive green as the new vinyl floor color. Blech.), you greet the two people who have arrived. 9:10 am.
Email. Ugh. Four emails about an exchange with a Cambridge MCR. Two emails about dance. Four emails about starting "rent negotiations" with the college. One MCR officer is stuck in Israel (airline strike) and another in South Africa (mechanical issues?). Vice President on holiday in Netherlands, but have an amazing treasurer and secretary. Pizza night tonight. And dance practice.
Responding to the first wave of messages, you get 'caught up.' You grab your notebook and computer and head to another building to teach a lab. Concrete bridge design. Lecture by your supervisor followed by hours of undergraduate challenges. Spending all day with the supervisor. Fun.
Hours pass. Students barely making progress. Lunch time. Queue for canteen ridiculous because you entered at the Undergrad rush instead of the Grad student lull (30 mins before hand). Return to your desk, finding no one around. They went out to eat in the parks - a beautiful sunny day. Open inbox. YIKES! More emails about the exchange, the officer stuck in Israel, the social events that can't get planned, rent negotiations, three rooms up for rent for next year, and some other miscellaneous spam. Ok, I have time. Plan meeting for 8pm, decline participation in pizza night because of dance practice.
All that sorted, just in time to head back to the undergrad lab. Two more hours, dozens more questions. Only one group gets a successful design. Great conversation with my supervisor in the meantime... and 13 pounds per hour isn't bad either. Back to desk. Still more emails. Up to 39 received on the day. Oh wait, here's one about setting a meeting time for next week. 40.
Leave lab. 5:20 pm. 30 minute walk to Iffley gym. Remember that you forgot a call that came while in the lab. Dancesport captain? That's weird. Call back... voicemail. Arrive at practice. Text message about when college fees are due. Who knows. Friday maybe?
PRACTICE..... *relaxes*
Coach wants to talk about things. So much for jive. Practice over, you walk back towards college. Return call from captain again. He's busy too? No kidding. Anyway, he wants to talk about... other things. Why me? Go figure.
You hang up the phone and duck into the MCR. Pizza carnage. Well, I guess that was successful... wouldn't have wanted anyone to starve because I had a slice (no matter, I ate a sandwich on the way to practice). Meeting begins: logistics of a dinner exchange with Cambridge. Walking home, a beautiful evening, 8:45 pm. Checks email on phone. Five more. Hm, never did send three other emails I needed to... and it looks like I need to be in lab by 9 tomorrow to sign off on the undergrads' designs. No matter.
House quiet. Internet barely works. Bake an easy-bake oven roll since Dave left the oven on. Housemates slowly converge on the lounge in our internet-less existence. You work on MCR stuff, while housemates talk about random happenings. As you resort to a dramatic reading of the opening sequence from the Lord of the Rings movies (epic, I assure you) to music, you receive another email: don't forget about the theatre trip we have this weekend! Oh yeah... need to organize transportation to the Globe Theatre to see The Tempest. Add that to the list for tomorrow.
Ok, sufficiently caught up for the moment! 45 emails in, 16 emails out. A full day in lab, a good dance practice, situations diffused, MCR running smoothly, socialised with housemates, and it was a sunny day to boot.
Last step, jot down a blog. Fathom feasibility of making macaroons (nope!) and tomorrow's schedule (UG lab, personal lab work, find technician, lunch with Warden, follow up with gait lab, social secretary meeting, dance practice, write unresolved emails (including the inevitable responses from tonight's messages), maybe read more 5 pages of Les Miserables if there's time).
12:20 am, email says another room is available for rent for next year...Whatever.
Brush teeth, wait for Liam's trademark expression ('Night guys!'), return to the bat cave for a nap. Sleep is instantaneous.
A brilliant day.
CULTURE CORNER
Word of the Day:
Ta! - Int. Colloquial for 'thank you!' Exclaimed alone or within a normal sentence. Ex. Ta for meeting up with me today!
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Sweet Six-week Spring Break
Spring has sprung here in Oxford* and like a blooming daffodil, I have been rejuvenated by a nice long "break" following the rigours of term time! As today is the eve of 0th week Trinity Term, it seems high time to reflect on the highlights of the last few weeks of break.
The most significant aspect of this break has been the opportunity to relax. Since I have travelled extensively in the last six months (NC, California, London, France, Italy, Germany, and Switzerland), I decided it would be advantageous to take a proper break. This allowed me some time to focus on my research while reconnecting with one of my almost-forgotten hobbies, cooking. Much to my housemates' chagrin, I led a sweeping campaign to return our cluttered and neglected house to a state of decent hominess (side note: why are homely and homey antonyms for sounding so similar?!). In response of their cooperative efforts, I subsequently put on a three week clinic. The results:
Southern fried chicken & cornbread
Easter lamb dinner
Red onion paella
Almond-rolled goats cheese w/ beetroot salad and pesto
Roasted veg
Battenberg cake (http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/battenburg_cake_60878)
Jenna's chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake bars (http://buyinganelephant.com/2012/04/)
Apple-raspberry crumble
Chocolate bread & butter pudding
Double chocolate macarons
That's right, I made macarons. From scratch. These delicate, almond based, French biscuits might be seen as a pinnacle of baking. With a trans-oceanic spirit of exploration, my parents and I simultaneously ventured into the perilous jungle of the unknown in hopes of finding the unicorn of the pastry world. Team GB (my kitchen) actually ended up having a greater challenge with the ganache filling than the cookie itself. 'Broken' the first time, I failed to 'fix' it the second time, only succeeding with the use of an electric hand mixer the third time. In the meantime, Team USA (my parents' kitchen) casually prepared their ganache before taking a break to go run some errands. When the biscuit-prep began, Team GB almost ran into trouble when adding boiled sugar to egg whites. The meringue matrix collapsed. Team GB panicked, but a loyal housemate recommended I just beat the mix with the hand mixer to stiffen it up. Save of the day! Team USA seemed to cruise along with their hands tied behind their back. Well, when the baking completed, and scores tallied, Team USA won by a narrow margin: No cracks with a few stuck to the pan, while Team GB had 50% cracks and a couple stuck to the pan. Then again, looking at this picture from Team GB, I'd say there were no losers:
So it's been a cooking-filled break. Actually, this week has been quite interesting for other reasons too. Monday saw the passing of one of the 20th century's most influential leaders, Margaret Thatcher. On Tuesday, 'Ding Dong the Witch is Dead' was one of the most downloaded songs on iTunes. Hopefully it will suffice to say that the former Prime Minister's death has engendered a variety of responses. As an American, all I will remark on is the fact that she held particularly close ties to Reagan, collectively forming a bastion of economic conservatism in the 1980s. Given that most of the readers of this blog know much more about the era than I, I will avoid speaking beyond my understanding. I will merely add that Wednesday's military honours should be particularly interesting to watch... I remember watching Reagan's funeral in high school and thinking that his image in public opinion has improved with time, whereas Thatcher's image may have aged more like a soured wine than a fine one. We'll see.
Another interesting element to this week has been my serendipitous accruing of theatre tickets. Through a couple of circumstances, I ended up with tickets to a youth community-theatre production of Oklahoma! on Wednesday in addition to Les Miserables tickets last night. Having already extolled the virtues of the latter on two previous occasions, I'll simply highlight that I have started to read the book, which, in combination with the (decent) movie, provides for a fantastic theatre experience. As for Oklahoma!, I was first surprised by the quality of the performance: the singing was impressive and the American southern accents were perfect for adults, let alone 12-18 year-old British kids. I found it strange watching this American musical in the UK. I wondered how this piece of Americana - somewhere between the Wizard of Oz and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn - would be accepted by this international audience. If the musical was originally written to an American audience who would at least have a superficial understanding of the 'old west', how would someone from overseas perceive the show in comparison to me? Is it simply a story of a love triangle, independent from its setting, or does a little understanding of historical and cultural background add meaning to the plot? How about in terms of forming cultural perceptions?
Well anyway, I think I'm going to let you mull that over. It's raining outside and I think I'm due to return to my book. Or find some food. Or plan some MCR events. Or take a nap. Or plan a trip... So many things to do!
Next stop, on to Trinity Term!
*The temperature yesterday was 11C/52F, the warmest it has been all year. We've had one day of radiant sunshine, but a few days of decent sunshine. It's practically summer.
CULTURE CORNER
I played a board game a couple weeks ago entitled 'Oxford by Degrees.' I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to someone who has never studied here, but in one's quest to graduate via the completion of assignments and terms, it hilariously brings to light many of the quirky attributes of Oxford life.... "Someone steals your bicycle. Take 4 off of every spin until you walk to the police station to report it." Or, "Your mom sends you post. Return to your college to collect it, then miss a turn." Or, "If it is Hilary term (in the game), go to the boat house to watch Torpids (a boat race). Stay there until you spin higher than an 8." This, my friends, is quality entertainment. Especially if you graduate with a First.
Which reminds me, maybe I should explain the UK grading system. In the UK, one is not graded on an A/B/C/D/F scale, but on a 1/2/3 scale. The highest degree is a 'First,' which is roughly equivalent in prestige to graduating 'cum laude.' Then, one can be awarded either a 2:1 or a 2:2 (read as 'two one' and 'two two') for first and second class 'Second' degrees. Collectively, these probably correspond to grades from a mid-A down to a low-C. Graduating with a 'Third' is like finishing with a D. Most importantly, I think the bell curve is quite normally distributed: an equal-ish number of firsts and thirds (which are few), and an equal-ish number of 2:1s and 2:2s. As far as percentages go, someone who consistently gets 80% on their essays is likely to get a first, whereas if you are below 45%, you are probably destined for a third. As you can tell, the exams here is much less forgiving than in the US. Good thing I don't subscribe to this system as a DPhil student!
The most significant aspect of this break has been the opportunity to relax. Since I have travelled extensively in the last six months (NC, California, London, France, Italy, Germany, and Switzerland), I decided it would be advantageous to take a proper break. This allowed me some time to focus on my research while reconnecting with one of my almost-forgotten hobbies, cooking. Much to my housemates' chagrin, I led a sweeping campaign to return our cluttered and neglected house to a state of decent hominess (side note: why are homely and homey antonyms for sounding so similar?!). In response of their cooperative efforts, I subsequently put on a three week clinic. The results:
Southern fried chicken & cornbread
Easter lamb dinner
Red onion paella
Almond-rolled goats cheese w/ beetroot salad and pesto
Roasted veg
Battenberg cake (http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/battenburg_cake_60878)
Jenna's chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake bars (http://buyinganelephant.com/2012/04/)
Apple-raspberry crumble
Chocolate bread & butter pudding
Double chocolate macarons
That's right, I made macarons. From scratch. These delicate, almond based, French biscuits might be seen as a pinnacle of baking. With a trans-oceanic spirit of exploration, my parents and I simultaneously ventured into the perilous jungle of the unknown in hopes of finding the unicorn of the pastry world. Team GB (my kitchen) actually ended up having a greater challenge with the ganache filling than the cookie itself. 'Broken' the first time, I failed to 'fix' it the second time, only succeeding with the use of an electric hand mixer the third time. In the meantime, Team USA (my parents' kitchen) casually prepared their ganache before taking a break to go run some errands. When the biscuit-prep began, Team GB almost ran into trouble when adding boiled sugar to egg whites. The meringue matrix collapsed. Team GB panicked, but a loyal housemate recommended I just beat the mix with the hand mixer to stiffen it up. Save of the day! Team USA seemed to cruise along with their hands tied behind their back. Well, when the baking completed, and scores tallied, Team USA won by a narrow margin: No cracks with a few stuck to the pan, while Team GB had 50% cracks and a couple stuck to the pan. Then again, looking at this picture from Team GB, I'd say there were no losers:
So it's been a cooking-filled break. Actually, this week has been quite interesting for other reasons too. Monday saw the passing of one of the 20th century's most influential leaders, Margaret Thatcher. On Tuesday, 'Ding Dong the Witch is Dead' was one of the most downloaded songs on iTunes. Hopefully it will suffice to say that the former Prime Minister's death has engendered a variety of responses. As an American, all I will remark on is the fact that she held particularly close ties to Reagan, collectively forming a bastion of economic conservatism in the 1980s. Given that most of the readers of this blog know much more about the era than I, I will avoid speaking beyond my understanding. I will merely add that Wednesday's military honours should be particularly interesting to watch... I remember watching Reagan's funeral in high school and thinking that his image in public opinion has improved with time, whereas Thatcher's image may have aged more like a soured wine than a fine one. We'll see.
Another interesting element to this week has been my serendipitous accruing of theatre tickets. Through a couple of circumstances, I ended up with tickets to a youth community-theatre production of Oklahoma! on Wednesday in addition to Les Miserables tickets last night. Having already extolled the virtues of the latter on two previous occasions, I'll simply highlight that I have started to read the book, which, in combination with the (decent) movie, provides for a fantastic theatre experience. As for Oklahoma!, I was first surprised by the quality of the performance: the singing was impressive and the American southern accents were perfect for adults, let alone 12-18 year-old British kids. I found it strange watching this American musical in the UK. I wondered how this piece of Americana - somewhere between the Wizard of Oz and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn - would be accepted by this international audience. If the musical was originally written to an American audience who would at least have a superficial understanding of the 'old west', how would someone from overseas perceive the show in comparison to me? Is it simply a story of a love triangle, independent from its setting, or does a little understanding of historical and cultural background add meaning to the plot? How about in terms of forming cultural perceptions?
Well anyway, I think I'm going to let you mull that over. It's raining outside and I think I'm due to return to my book. Or find some food. Or plan some MCR events. Or take a nap. Or plan a trip... So many things to do!
Next stop, on to Trinity Term!
*The temperature yesterday was 11C/52F, the warmest it has been all year. We've had one day of radiant sunshine, but a few days of decent sunshine. It's practically summer.
CULTURE CORNER
I played a board game a couple weeks ago entitled 'Oxford by Degrees.' I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to someone who has never studied here, but in one's quest to graduate via the completion of assignments and terms, it hilariously brings to light many of the quirky attributes of Oxford life.... "Someone steals your bicycle. Take 4 off of every spin until you walk to the police station to report it." Or, "Your mom sends you post. Return to your college to collect it, then miss a turn." Or, "If it is Hilary term (in the game), go to the boat house to watch Torpids (a boat race). Stay there until you spin higher than an 8." This, my friends, is quality entertainment. Especially if you graduate with a First.
Which reminds me, maybe I should explain the UK grading system. In the UK, one is not graded on an A/B/C/D/F scale, but on a 1/2/3 scale. The highest degree is a 'First,' which is roughly equivalent in prestige to graduating 'cum laude.' Then, one can be awarded either a 2:1 or a 2:2 (read as 'two one' and 'two two') for first and second class 'Second' degrees. Collectively, these probably correspond to grades from a mid-A down to a low-C. Graduating with a 'Third' is like finishing with a D. Most importantly, I think the bell curve is quite normally distributed: an equal-ish number of firsts and thirds (which are few), and an equal-ish number of 2:1s and 2:2s. As far as percentages go, someone who consistently gets 80% on their essays is likely to get a first, whereas if you are below 45%, you are probably destined for a third. As you can tell, the exams here is much less forgiving than in the US. Good thing I don't subscribe to this system as a DPhil student!
Monday, March 18, 2013
Crusin' on the Road of Life
It seems, at last, that our intrepid hero is back in action after crossing desert of February blog posts. Perhaps this post should have come a couple weeks ago, but alas it has taken me until today, Monday of 10th week in Hilary Term ('full term' ended 2 Fridays ago) to get my feet under me again.
Case study #1: I am seeing the rich matte black surface of my bedroom desk for the first time since November.
Case study #2: Not only did I make a raspberry-apple crumble, but I concocted my first homemade Thai Curry last night. I may have previously set a record for most consecutive days eating a sandwich while my calendar placed a strangling choke-hold on my desire to cook things.
Case study #3: On Saturday, I awoke at 10 am. I haven't slept that late on a Saturday since at least December.
Watch out world. The intrepid hero is back.
This is the point when I struggle whether or not to talk about my conference trip to California. Technically speaking, this is an international travel blog where I describe cultural observations and conclusions. Technically speaking, California was 'home.' But technically speaking, I've lived in the UK for 18 months now, and that's not even going into the fact that the California lifestyle is otherworldly compared to the East Coast. So ok. Some words about this boulevard of broken dreams...
The conference trip was broken into three sections. In the first section, I had the distinct pleasure of being invited into the home of my beginners dance partner, Jenna. She and her family practically laid out the red carpet for me, taking me around Hollywood, showing me UCLA, going to the Getty Museum and the Space Shuttle Endeavor, and taking me to a great family dinner. I had a great time catching up with her and her family! I also had the pleasure of meeting Jenna's best friend, Aisha, her now-fiancee, Joseph, and of course the one and only white-paper-consuming oft imitated but never duplicated 80ish pound fluff ball golden retriever, Brinkley. Like a real-life over-sized teddy bear, "Brinks" chose to keep me company each night in case I got scared of the dark or the monsters. I approved.
Of course the best part of trip-part-one was the inevitable day we spent in Disneyland. With weather on the cool side of gorgeous (aka, just "gorgeous"), we frolicked around the park like kids. Did you know that Disneyland - while having a miniscule castle - has both a Ghiradelli ice cream shop and a Boudin Sourdough Bakery? Disney for the win! Needless to say, the day flew by and all too soon Jenna was dropping me off at my hotel for the conference.
Instead of talking about the conference itself (don't worry, it was faaaantastic), I choose this space to highlight a bit of culture shock I received. The roads are SO wide. It should never take you more than 10 seconds to cross a street. In Anaheim, the streets are so wide one could order dodgy take out before crossing the six-plus lanes of traffic. Madness. Also, everything is lavish. I'm not talking about old-world lavishness. I'm talking about bam!-in-your-21st-century-face lavishness. The sidewalks are perfect. The buildings are perfect. The sky is perfect. People are always cheerful. Everything from the massive amounts of food to the giant cars practically glows, drawing you in like a hypnotized moth to a flame. When you walk the mile from the conference to Disneyland (yes, I did), you pass maybe 10-20 buildings. In Oxford, you walk 20 paces and pass 10 buildings.
By the way, before you ever skip the last afternoon of a conference in favor of heading to Disneyland by yourself, make sure it's not Valentines Day. The 'Single Rider Line' takes an entirely new meaning.
In part three of my homeward-bound adventure, I crammed the maximum amount of fun into two days as I think is even possible. After a red eye flight from CA, Rachael picked me up in Raleigh and took me straight to meet with Dr. Bassett, Director of NC State's Franklin Scholars Program. We had a lovely chat over homemade tea and scones. From there, I walked to campus to meet V-C Dr. Luckadoo over a great lunch at Mitch's Tavern on Hillsborough. Sweet tea never tasted so good, and the conversation was even better. After admiring the ongoing campus construction, I wandered to Civil Engineering and Music, where I bumped into a couple professors, who I was happy to exchange stories with. Finally, Tyler picked me up and took me to their house via Food Lion (a fine institution, to be sure). When Rachael and my parents arrived within the half hour, we were quickly out the door again to dinner... at Bida Manda! And what's Bida Manda? A Laotian restaurant opened by a friend last August. The restaurant has had rave reviews, and we stand in line to agree! Vansana, the owner/friend, even brought out a couple desserts on the house. If you find yourself in Raleigh, GO!
Well, the next day was more of the same. Awoke early for a full day of Caldwell interviews, followed by enough home-smoked BBQ from Tyler to sink a couple of mean battleships. Then met up with a close civil engineering/Caldwell friend, Christine, to finish off the evening at the Caldwell Gala. Next day: snow on the ground... driving five hours... quick trip to Dianne's (from PBC... the lives in the neighborhood now!!) and caught up with Tony, Matt, Christina, and Mike over dinner at the Aiellos. Whew, quick, go catch another red eye plane and get back to work!
So that was the start of the marathon. I spent the next week practicing with reckless abandon with my new dance partner, Denny (side note, in the second week back, we practiced constantly with more grace than reckless abandon!). Denny is a lovely dance partner and friend, hailing from Bulgaria originally but having lived the last half of her life in Vancouver. Anyway, there we were with 10 days to learn and solidify five routines before the biggest competition of the year, Blackpool. And did we ever! Thanks to the rigorous 20-hour dance schedule (yeah... if you haven't figured out yet, DPhil is short for DancePhil), we were good to go. Results: 8th place out of 150 couples in Novice ballroom (Waltz+Quickstep), and a cool 50th out of 88 in the always challenging Intermediate latin (Cha+Rumba+Jive). I was quite pleased with the performance, and I daresay our hard work and great results turned a some heads on the team as well. Who knows what the future holds, but I've got my fingers crossed for a solid year dancing with Denny next year!
In the midst of all this reckless abandonment, I also carried on with MCR activities. We held an outstanding bop in the weekend between my return to Oxford and the competition in Blackpool, in addition to hosting a fantastic black tie dinner. Having emerged from dance-mania, I reverted into a culture of fine dining, having a dancesport formal on Tuesday, High Table dinner in Keble Hall on Wednesday, and a delicious "guest night" dinner (When Hall puts extra effort in and encourages everyone to bring a guest. Shameless advertising...) on Thursday. There's no shortage of nice food around Oxford!
May I also take a moment to mention that I have become acquainted with risotto for the first time this term. On several occasions, I've had the chance to dowse my taste buds in the creamy textures of several risotto varieties. I have yet to make it myself, but wow, risotto is SO good! The ham, pepper, and feta was my first, but it was easily matched by a savory mushroom risotto. I must learn how to prepare these foods!
But speaking of nice food - and coming full circle - yesterday marked the beginning of my curry career. I made this green Thai chicken curry (http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/thaigreenchickencurr_92440) which I highly recommend. The key to this dish is the curry paste. Go 2 Tbsp for the full effect (early heat abating into creamy texture) or a bit lighter if you and spice don't get along. In fact, BBC Good Food tends to have great recipes, so you can hardly go wrong by looking around the above website. I made a great raspberry-apple crumble, accompanied by my first ever creme-anglaise. It was the first time I've bought a vanilla pod, but I enjoyed every moment of it :-)
Well, as I ease into the long Easter holiday (bit of bowling Saturday... bit of a snowy walk in Port Meadow yesterday), I should be able to get back into the regular routine of writing. But for now, that's all folks!
CULTURE CORNER
Words of the Day:
Innovative - pronounced: In - nov (as in novel) - at - if.... as opposed to the American pronunciation: In-no-vate-if. adj. Cutting-edge, to be on the forefront of discovery.
Controversy - pronounced: Cont - rov (like in robin) - er - see.... as opposed to the American pronunciation: Cont - row - vur - see. n. The argumentative discussion resulting from a situation, event, object, or person that is seen with varying levels of objection.
Epoch - pronounced: e - pok .... as opposed to the American pronunciation: ep-ik. n. A referenced period of history.
Case study #1: I am seeing the rich matte black surface of my bedroom desk for the first time since November.
Case study #2: Not only did I make a raspberry-apple crumble, but I concocted my first homemade Thai Curry last night. I may have previously set a record for most consecutive days eating a sandwich while my calendar placed a strangling choke-hold on my desire to cook things.
Case study #3: On Saturday, I awoke at 10 am. I haven't slept that late on a Saturday since at least December.
Watch out world. The intrepid hero is back.
This is the point when I struggle whether or not to talk about my conference trip to California. Technically speaking, this is an international travel blog where I describe cultural observations and conclusions. Technically speaking, California was 'home.' But technically speaking, I've lived in the UK for 18 months now, and that's not even going into the fact that the California lifestyle is otherworldly compared to the East Coast. So ok. Some words about this boulevard of broken dreams...
The conference trip was broken into three sections. In the first section, I had the distinct pleasure of being invited into the home of my beginners dance partner, Jenna. She and her family practically laid out the red carpet for me, taking me around Hollywood, showing me UCLA, going to the Getty Museum and the Space Shuttle Endeavor, and taking me to a great family dinner. I had a great time catching up with her and her family! I also had the pleasure of meeting Jenna's best friend, Aisha, her now-fiancee, Joseph, and of course the one and only white-paper-consuming oft imitated but never duplicated 80ish pound fluff ball golden retriever, Brinkley. Like a real-life over-sized teddy bear, "Brinks" chose to keep me company each night in case I got scared of the dark or the monsters. I approved.
Of course the best part of trip-part-one was the inevitable day we spent in Disneyland. With weather on the cool side of gorgeous (aka, just "gorgeous"), we frolicked around the park like kids. Did you know that Disneyland - while having a miniscule castle - has both a Ghiradelli ice cream shop and a Boudin Sourdough Bakery? Disney for the win! Needless to say, the day flew by and all too soon Jenna was dropping me off at my hotel for the conference.
Instead of talking about the conference itself (don't worry, it was faaaantastic), I choose this space to highlight a bit of culture shock I received. The roads are SO wide. It should never take you more than 10 seconds to cross a street. In Anaheim, the streets are so wide one could order dodgy take out before crossing the six-plus lanes of traffic. Madness. Also, everything is lavish. I'm not talking about old-world lavishness. I'm talking about bam!-in-your-21st-century-face lavishness. The sidewalks are perfect. The buildings are perfect. The sky is perfect. People are always cheerful. Everything from the massive amounts of food to the giant cars practically glows, drawing you in like a hypnotized moth to a flame. When you walk the mile from the conference to Disneyland (yes, I did), you pass maybe 10-20 buildings. In Oxford, you walk 20 paces and pass 10 buildings.
By the way, before you ever skip the last afternoon of a conference in favor of heading to Disneyland by yourself, make sure it's not Valentines Day. The 'Single Rider Line' takes an entirely new meaning.
In part three of my homeward-bound adventure, I crammed the maximum amount of fun into two days as I think is even possible. After a red eye flight from CA, Rachael picked me up in Raleigh and took me straight to meet with Dr. Bassett, Director of NC State's Franklin Scholars Program. We had a lovely chat over homemade tea and scones. From there, I walked to campus to meet V-C Dr. Luckadoo over a great lunch at Mitch's Tavern on Hillsborough. Sweet tea never tasted so good, and the conversation was even better. After admiring the ongoing campus construction, I wandered to Civil Engineering and Music, where I bumped into a couple professors, who I was happy to exchange stories with. Finally, Tyler picked me up and took me to their house via Food Lion (a fine institution, to be sure). When Rachael and my parents arrived within the half hour, we were quickly out the door again to dinner... at Bida Manda! And what's Bida Manda? A Laotian restaurant opened by a friend last August. The restaurant has had rave reviews, and we stand in line to agree! Vansana, the owner/friend, even brought out a couple desserts on the house. If you find yourself in Raleigh, GO!
Well, the next day was more of the same. Awoke early for a full day of Caldwell interviews, followed by enough home-smoked BBQ from Tyler to sink a couple of mean battleships. Then met up with a close civil engineering/Caldwell friend, Christine, to finish off the evening at the Caldwell Gala. Next day: snow on the ground... driving five hours... quick trip to Dianne's (from PBC... the lives in the neighborhood now!!) and caught up with Tony, Matt, Christina, and Mike over dinner at the Aiellos. Whew, quick, go catch another red eye plane and get back to work!
So that was the start of the marathon. I spent the next week practicing with reckless abandon with my new dance partner, Denny (side note, in the second week back, we practiced constantly with more grace than reckless abandon!). Denny is a lovely dance partner and friend, hailing from Bulgaria originally but having lived the last half of her life in Vancouver. Anyway, there we were with 10 days to learn and solidify five routines before the biggest competition of the year, Blackpool. And did we ever! Thanks to the rigorous 20-hour dance schedule (yeah... if you haven't figured out yet, DPhil is short for DancePhil), we were good to go. Results: 8th place out of 150 couples in Novice ballroom (Waltz+Quickstep), and a cool 50th out of 88 in the always challenging Intermediate latin (Cha+Rumba+Jive). I was quite pleased with the performance, and I daresay our hard work and great results turned a some heads on the team as well. Who knows what the future holds, but I've got my fingers crossed for a solid year dancing with Denny next year!
In the midst of all this reckless abandonment, I also carried on with MCR activities. We held an outstanding bop in the weekend between my return to Oxford and the competition in Blackpool, in addition to hosting a fantastic black tie dinner. Having emerged from dance-mania, I reverted into a culture of fine dining, having a dancesport formal on Tuesday, High Table dinner in Keble Hall on Wednesday, and a delicious "guest night" dinner (When Hall puts extra effort in and encourages everyone to bring a guest. Shameless advertising...) on Thursday. There's no shortage of nice food around Oxford!
May I also take a moment to mention that I have become acquainted with risotto for the first time this term. On several occasions, I've had the chance to dowse my taste buds in the creamy textures of several risotto varieties. I have yet to make it myself, but wow, risotto is SO good! The ham, pepper, and feta was my first, but it was easily matched by a savory mushroom risotto. I must learn how to prepare these foods!
But speaking of nice food - and coming full circle - yesterday marked the beginning of my curry career. I made this green Thai chicken curry (http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/thaigreenchickencurr_92440) which I highly recommend. The key to this dish is the curry paste. Go 2 Tbsp for the full effect (early heat abating into creamy texture) or a bit lighter if you and spice don't get along. In fact, BBC Good Food tends to have great recipes, so you can hardly go wrong by looking around the above website. I made a great raspberry-apple crumble, accompanied by my first ever creme-anglaise. It was the first time I've bought a vanilla pod, but I enjoyed every moment of it :-)
Well, as I ease into the long Easter holiday (bit of bowling Saturday... bit of a snowy walk in Port Meadow yesterday), I should be able to get back into the regular routine of writing. But for now, that's all folks!
CULTURE CORNER
Words of the Day:
Innovative - pronounced: In - nov (as in novel) - at - if.... as opposed to the American pronunciation: In-no-vate-if. adj. Cutting-edge, to be on the forefront of discovery.
Controversy - pronounced: Cont - rov (like in robin) - er - see.... as opposed to the American pronunciation: Cont - row - vur - see. n. The argumentative discussion resulting from a situation, event, object, or person that is seen with varying levels of objection.
Epoch - pronounced: e - pok .... as opposed to the American pronunciation: ep-ik. n. A referenced period of history.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
There and Back Again... and Other Adventures
Having crossed the border from Montana into Wyoming, I think
it is high time to write a blog post. In fact, much of this passage has been
filled with another literary pursuit; knocking out 230 pages of Tolkien’s The Hobbit, a worthy story about
traveling which can only inspire the most bedraggled journeymen.
As I closed the book on Bilbo’s tale, I remembered that I
have my own story to continue. Though I do not have stories of running into a
rogue band of goblins or exchanging riddles with a mighty dragon, the first
half of Hilary Term 2013 has certainly been full of adventures.
Yes, the MCR and dancesport have certainly had their
moments, but first I will begin in the research world. After my October
Transfer of Status, I set about trying to find instrumentation with which to
build a force-recording shoe. Immediately finding that each force sensor was
going to cost over 3000 GBP (and I needed 3-6 sensors. ouch!), I abandoned the
shoe in hopes of understanding the human energy costs of walking. This led into
a detailed study of human motion, which in turn led us to realize that
understanding the energy costs alone would not be sufficiently useful for
developing a model (among other issues). Thus, with renewed hope, we contacted
the instrumentation company about giving us a discount for the force sensors in
order to proceed with the shoes. That took us to Christmas, where a
representative told us he would be happy to meet to talk about our project. On
the day my parents, Tyler and Rachael returned to the States, I received an
email saying essentially, “We thought about your project and think it’s
hopeless.” Great. So back to the drawing board, we returned to the energy
model.
Despair.
After a week (after three months) of fruitless labor,
suddenly things started to click. My supervisors and I chose a new plan. I
would return to the gait lab and collect some data of my own. I will also
modify an existing lab-scale bridge that we have in Engineering and conduct
some supplemental tests (of which I won’t share the details here… because this
is the internet).
(Aside: Now I’m in Utah.)
The best part of this new set up is that I have finally, after a year and a half, had
the chance to do some ‘real’ engineering. Mind you, it is only learning about
the electronics of strain gauges and some basic beam theory, but it is
wonderfully refreshing to return to my proper field. Biomechanics gets
wearisome after a while!
Anyway, the reason I’m in Utah is because I’m flying to Los
Angeles to present my Transfer of Status research at a conference on
engineering dynamics. Aside from the 30 minutes of presentation terror, I
imagine this will be a fantastic trip… but that’s for the next blog.
So what else has been going on? The term has already been
notable for several big happenings in MCR life. In the second week back from
the break, we put on the long-anticipated Keble Alumni Panel Discussion. An
idea that originated back in August, we asked three prominent Keble Alumni come
to talk about their experiences regarding a theme: international conflict
resolution. The three panelists were the director of the Centre for the Study
of Political Violence and Terrorism (an expert on Northern Ireland), a former
UK ambassador to Sudan and Consul General to Jerusalem, and a former British
Governor of Hong Kong. Each talked about their experiences for 10 minutes
before fielding questions from the 100-member audience. With the whole college
engaged in the event (the Warden – a former permanent secretary in Northern
Ireland – moderated the panel), the evening was a huge success. It was
academic, interesting, engaging, and most importantly, it provided a new link
between students and alumni.
By the way – the new director of the BBC is a Keble College
Alumnus. Hopefully we can bring him in sometime!
Hey mom and dad – remember when we drove around Utah in a
week in the summer of ‘94? It looks pretty desolate (albeit mountainous and
snowy) out there. What were we thinking!? Bilbo Baggins would be proud though.
Another interesting MCR-related event has been the
presidential privilege of attending the Keble Association Dinner. The KA is a
granting organization made up of primarily alumni. Every January, they have a
black-tie dinner at a fancy gentlemen’s club in London. The JCR and MCR
presidents both attend, but they take turns giving a speech. Naturally, this
year was my turn. I should mention however, that the first person I met at the
dinner happened to be a civil engineer and a former JCR president. Apparently at
the time (in the 50s or 60s), there was a tiny line item in the JCR
constitution about having to give a speech. No one else mentioned it to him,
but he threw together a couple notes at the last minute. Good thing he did,
because when he showed up, they put him on the spot! Thankfully, I had much
better warning and my speech was all written out days ahead of time. What does
one say to a mystery audience? Well naturally, I talked about Oxford Moments…
and also the many accolades Keble
students have achieved in the past year. It was a fine evening with the Warden,
the KA president, and the many alumni. I’m quite happy I went… in spite of the
nerve-wracking speech!
Otherwise life in the MCR plods along as usual. The standard
weekly assortment of social events (poker night, port & cheese, movie
marathon, super bowl party) is broken up by meetings and academic events (such
as the Graduate Discussion Evening, when one 2nd year discussed
advancements in brick-dating. Fascinating!) and the standard onslaught of emails
(“Dear MCR President: Will you advertise to your common room that we are
conducting a study on the emotional effects of X on Y? We need volunteers.
Regards, Joe Schmoe.” Ugh).
Crossing the Utah border into Nevada now, just north of
Arizona. I think I missed views of the Grand Canyon. Crap! Should be able to
see Las Vegas though…
So dancesport has also been an adventure of late. We came
back from the holiday with only a couple weeks to prepare for Sheffield, which
was last weekend. Frantically, we more or less pulled together our routines and
off we went to the competition. On surface level, it was a good competition.
Oxford did quite well and we made it to semis in waltz, quarterfinals in
quickstep (both at novice level), and to the second round of the intermediate
3-dance combination (cha/rumba/jive), not bad considering the latin standard
was really hard this weekend. On the
other hand, I found out that for a couple of DPhil reasons, Emma is likely having to
drop out of dancesport for the rest of the year. Hm.
THE HOOVER DAM!!! Too bad I’m on the
wrong side of the plane for Las Vegas... but I would rather see the dam than the
city anyway. Success! … anyway…
So with only one month until Blackpool, of which I am
missing 10 days, I find myself with a new dance partner who is going to try to
pick up all 5 routines in my absence. Her name is Denny, and I wish her luck!
When I return, we will have 11 days to get our act together; we have planned a
rigorous 20-hour practice schedule to get everything working. On top of that,
the MCR is hosting a bop during the one intervening weekend and the MCR
black-tie dinner is the day before we travel to Blackpool.
On March 4, I plan to sleep. A lot.
Just like that, we’ve crossed the border into California.
There’s a dead-looking valley below, so the time has come to fasten my tales,
stow my stories, and return my journey to its full and upright position. Thanks
for the inspiration, Mr. Baggins.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
The Third Course: England
Sorry for the long delay in the English part of my holiday epic, but alas, here at last is the dramatic conclusion.
If you've ever faced the proposition of joining a large crowd for an event, you know that it can be a bit trying and tiring, but often well worth the fun. I have twice vied for a coveted railing space for New Years Eve in Epcot, survived the heat and thunderstorms before July 4th festivities at the US Capitol, and even struggled against drunk football (soccer) maniacs in the Vienna EuroCup fan zone, all for the holy grail of event attendance: the coveted perfect view. Regrettably, my traveling companions for New Years Eve in London did not share my adventurous enthusiasm for braving four hours of freezing cold, penned up like animals for a perfect 20 minute fireworks show.
So we watched it on the BBC.
No, I'm just kidding. While it's true that they were not enthusiastic about packing in and meeting new friends, we still ventured forth to seek out a reasonable plot of territory to plant our flag on for NYE celebrations. We were quite lucky, in fact. With our rental apartment just 10 minutes walking from all the action, we avoided the Tube and merely wandered onto Waterloo Bridge over the Thames. Before peaking the bridge, however, I looked off to the left and there it was: a gap between several buildings, with a clean view of the Eye and Big Ben behind! Even better, a temporary barricade had been erected; a perfect sitting place for my parents while we waited for 2012 to pass into history. Stocked with several tasty goods, we stood around with a couple of other people, thanking our good fortune that the crowds all passed up this spot. The breeze - albeit chilly - flew along with the time and all too soon... 10... 9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1... GONG GONG GONG GONG as Big Ben pierced the chilled night time air... GONG GONG GONG GONG with the pending excitement of a new year... GONG GONG GONG GONG... silence. Then BOOOOOOM!! The night exploded in a cloud of lights as the Eye was enveloped in a ring of brilliant fireworks. Almost immediately, the Eye disappeared behind a shroud of clouds which moved swiftly in our direction. The smoke was so thick, we could barely see the fireworks behind. Then, even those disappeared. It didn't matter; we were having too good of a time to care. It was the new year and we were in London. Though... I might add that it was a touch unfortunate to be the awkward 5th wheel. Maybe that should be my new year's resolution ;-)
Not letting the grass grow under our feet (actually, that's because it's London's South Bank, where there is no grass), we hit the streets the next morning for our first day of sightseeing. Since my parents have done London before, we decided to mostly divide and conquer; T&R hit most of the standards while we worked on our second list. So first, it was the Imperial War Museum, including a moving exhibition on the holocaust. Just out of Normandy, it was fascinating to see the background of why the Allies invaded France. Surprising, too, was the fact that many of the gory details of the genocide were unknown by the allied governments and, naturally masked from the public eye.
For a bit of contrast, we also popped over to the Tate Modern for my parents' introduction to modern art. The museum is housed in a converted hydroelectric plant. It is an impressive structure, but a bit industrial. Its cooling tower dominates the south bank skyline, and provides an interesting contrast to the massive St. Pauls directly across the Thames. I found the museum's galleries fascinating too. One of the first works we saw was two stuffed crows pinned to the drywall with arrows, 'soaring' above an outline of the London skyline. It was a great use of 2D and 3D elements. I think our 'favourite' work, however, was called Equivalent VIII. It consists of an arrangement of yellow bricks, two blocks high by six blocks wide by ten blocks long. Basically, it looks like a segment of a walkway. Tyler and Rachael saw the exhibit later in the week, which led to a great deal of debate in our group. Tyler and dad opposing Rachael and me, the three debates about this singular - shall I say - piece of art constituted the most discussion about any landmark from the entire three-week trip. Rachael and I had the upper hand, of course!
That evening, my parents and I dined on the banks of the Thames. I had venison pie. Oh, pie and chips, how I missed thee! So good to return to British food!
One of the highlights of the London leg for my parents came the next morning. We decided to take a couple hours to meander around SoHo. Stopping in a cafe, we split tea and scones and just chatted. I think dad described it as a true British experience, so I'm glad we got the chance to relax over the delicious pastry. From there, we headed to St. Paul's. It was my third time in the church, and unlike the first two visits, which were during services, this time we picked up audio guides and explored the cathedral. Again, I was blown away by the beautiful mosaic work, which reaffirmed that St. Pauls is my favourite cathedral. We also climbed the dome, providing us a misty 360 degree view of London. That afternoon, we evaded the pouring rain by visiting the Maritime Museum, which I found ok, but not incredible. They did have a good exhibit on the East India Company however. Did you know that the East India Company owned over half of modern day India? The opium that was traded illegally into China had to come from somewhere! Finally, my parents and I capped the evening by taking in The Mousetrap, a play by Agatha Christie that is in its 60th year. I can see why it's the longest running stage production in history - the plot and characters were fantastic, and the acting was quite good. If you're ever in London and keen to see something other than a musical, this is the show for you. (Side note - I'm not going to explain the plot. You'll have to see it for yourself!)
Thursday's excitement was certainly our tour of Parliament. (We had grabbed breakfast in Covent Garden, but there wasn't much to write about... except the talented but way over-keen opera singer...) One can obtain free tours by contacting their MP, so I had procured five tickets for us. It began in Westminster Hall, the oldest part of the complex. Dating back to Norman times, it has been the seat of Parliament, a banquet hall, a court of law (e.g. for Guy Fawkes and Oliver Cromwell)... and filled many other purposes through the years. The guide took us through the Queen's Robing Room (with five of seven heraldic virtues depicted in paintings on the wall), the Royal Gallery (a splendid room used for workspace and meetings with foreign heads of government), and the Prince's Room (a 'small' room serving as the Prince's office and the Queen's antechamber to the House of Lords). Finally, the guide took us into the House of Lords, magnificent for its bright red and gold furnishings. The benches looked decadent, but she torturedly forbid us from sitting down. The Queen's throne at the end of the room was gilded in brilliant gold, a worthy chair for the Head of State. In front of her, the oft-depicted rows of benches faced a central table with a row of books and a pair of chests (aka podiums). According to the guide, the Lords are often chosen because they are experts in their field. Therefore, the often only 'come to work' when the policy being debated pertains to their expertise. As such, work in the House of Lords is rarely about striking down legislation, but fine-tuning the details of legislation to ensure its practicability (English question... what's the difference between practicability and practicality? Sigh...). The best part: anyone can nominate themselves to be a Lord, and I think the age limit is 18. Maybe that's my true calling when I finish my DPhil! Who thinks I should submit an application? I digress.
From there we moved across the Peers' Lobby to the Central Lobby, the room for which the tradition of lobbying one's officials got its name. Members of the public can wait there in hopes of snagging their MP for a chat. Beyond the central lobby was the Commons Lobby and finally the House of Commons. In mirror image to the House of Lords, this green and brown room was also quite lavish, and featured an elaborate chair for the speaker of the Commons. Interestingly, the throne-like seat is fitted with a curtain. In the old days, the speaker was not allowed to leave without suspending the session, so the curtain allowed the speaker to pull out a container to use as a toilet. MPs were asked to speak loudly to each other in order to give the speaker a bit of additional privacy during such embarrassing proceedings.
The rest of the day was good, but not quite as interesting as Parliament. Pub lunch (I had a cheese board!), Museum of London... which we didn't finish before closing, and a trip to Brick Lane, London's famous strip of Indian restaurants. My parents found the haggling of the restaurant owners on the streets to be quite off-putting, but I found it amusing in London, given that I became accustomed to it in China and other locations. At last, we took the recommendation of a friend and ended up at Tayyab's Pakistani Restaurant. Delicious does not even begin to cover it. I do love a good curry, and Tayyab's served some fantastically flavourful dishes. Mom even fought through the spice to bask in the glory of chicken tikka; there was enough mango lassi to put out even the most ferocious mouth-fires.
On our last day in London, I took my parents to nearby Windsor Castle. Having been there already, I won't go into too much detail, but I realized that I like the castle significantly better than the Palace of Versailles. The Garter Room still blew me away, and this time I was fortunate enough to see the lavish Scarlet Room, which had been closed off during my previous visit. One benefit to this visit was that everything had been decorated for Christmas. Wreaths adorned the bannisters and a couple Christmas trees had been arranged throughout the castle. It was wonderfully festive!
In the evening, we met Tyler & Rachael at the Victoria & Albert Museum. It was open late.... kind of. Much to our chagrin, only the ground floor was kept open after 5 pm... except the architecture and glass exhibits. Well, I was quite keen to look at the architecture and mom the glass, so we still managed to fill a couple hours. Soon enough, however, we crossed the street to a Lebanese restaurant, which ticked off another cuisine on my parents' culinary checklists. I daresay they quite enjoyed the meal - which consisted of the typical Mediterranean fare - aside from the drunk or doped up homeless person who came up to our outdoor table just before we paid. He only raged a little though; he just leaned up against another table and started listening in. Typically, quite funny in hindsight.
Twenty-one days gone, I finally returned to dear Oxford. A year and a half gone, and I finally had the opportunity to show my family and friends around the city I call home. Saturday involved a lengthy tour around town, including a full English breakfast, exploring Keble's neo-gothic peculiarities, meandering past the Sheldonian Theatre and Bodleian Libraries, a trip up the High Street and through the covered market, a brief respite over cream tea (i.e. tea & scones) at Queens Lane Cafe, wandering Broad Street, taking in the bustle of Cornmarket Street, past the Oxford Castle, and back up to my apartment. Ok, so perhaps it was a busy day. Naturally, it could only be concluded with pies and a pint at my beloved Victoria Pub. We discussed Equivalent VIII and other joys of England, a fine penultimate evening in Europe.
On the last day, we arose at a reasonable hour and headed out for Port Meadow. I was hoping to take them up to The Trout Inn and Pub, but as we crossed the bridge I realised what lasting impact the months of rain had befell Oxford: Port Meadow was really Port Lake. It's hard to imagine, but what should normally be a two-mile by half mile field with a 50-yard wide river had been entirely covered in water. I was blown away. On either side, we could only make it half way to The Trout before our way was impeded. Thus, we had a fabulous walk... but (sadly for Tyler) no rabbit pasta. After some fish and chips in the Eagle and Child, we returned to their hotel so they could pack. A couple hours of lounging later, and we headed to Keble Hall for dinner. Mercifully, the food was quite decent, and the hall itself was just as spectacular as always. Twas a fine final meal to share with the gang.
As my parents headed back to the hotel, I did share one final experience with Tyler and Rachael: the MCR's first event of term was an evening pub-style quiz. I played on a team with the two of them, and we actually didn't do too poorly. Unfortunately, however, the "Music of the Olympic Opening Ceremony" round did us in. But oh well; we'll get 'em next time!
So three glorious weeks sadly came to an end. We had seen 2000 years of history, art, politics, economy, and disasters laid out before our eyes. The connections between the three cities were fantastic, and I would highly recommend that if anyone wants to get a good idea of European history, they hit Rome/Florence, Paris, and London in succession. They were cultural, economic, and political powers to reckon with, and it was unbelievable to experience the tangled spaghetti of these cities' history first hand. From the Forum to Parliament, the trip was the most incredible three consecutive weeks of travel I have ever taken, so naturally, it's time to go back to the drawing board and see if I can step it up next time!
Very many heartfelt thanks to those who made this experience possible: my parents, Tyler and Rachael, Tyler's parents (especially for picking up the pieces while Tyler's house fell apart!), and my extended family for their various contributions and recommendations. So, where are we going next?
If you've ever faced the proposition of joining a large crowd for an event, you know that it can be a bit trying and tiring, but often well worth the fun. I have twice vied for a coveted railing space for New Years Eve in Epcot, survived the heat and thunderstorms before July 4th festivities at the US Capitol, and even struggled against drunk football (soccer) maniacs in the Vienna EuroCup fan zone, all for the holy grail of event attendance: the coveted perfect view. Regrettably, my traveling companions for New Years Eve in London did not share my adventurous enthusiasm for braving four hours of freezing cold, penned up like animals for a perfect 20 minute fireworks show.
So we watched it on the BBC.
No, I'm just kidding. While it's true that they were not enthusiastic about packing in and meeting new friends, we still ventured forth to seek out a reasonable plot of territory to plant our flag on for NYE celebrations. We were quite lucky, in fact. With our rental apartment just 10 minutes walking from all the action, we avoided the Tube and merely wandered onto Waterloo Bridge over the Thames. Before peaking the bridge, however, I looked off to the left and there it was: a gap between several buildings, with a clean view of the Eye and Big Ben behind! Even better, a temporary barricade had been erected; a perfect sitting place for my parents while we waited for 2012 to pass into history. Stocked with several tasty goods, we stood around with a couple of other people, thanking our good fortune that the crowds all passed up this spot. The breeze - albeit chilly - flew along with the time and all too soon... 10... 9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1... GONG GONG GONG GONG as Big Ben pierced the chilled night time air... GONG GONG GONG GONG with the pending excitement of a new year... GONG GONG GONG GONG... silence. Then BOOOOOOM!! The night exploded in a cloud of lights as the Eye was enveloped in a ring of brilliant fireworks. Almost immediately, the Eye disappeared behind a shroud of clouds which moved swiftly in our direction. The smoke was so thick, we could barely see the fireworks behind. Then, even those disappeared. It didn't matter; we were having too good of a time to care. It was the new year and we were in London. Though... I might add that it was a touch unfortunate to be the awkward 5th wheel. Maybe that should be my new year's resolution ;-)
Not letting the grass grow under our feet (actually, that's because it's London's South Bank, where there is no grass), we hit the streets the next morning for our first day of sightseeing. Since my parents have done London before, we decided to mostly divide and conquer; T&R hit most of the standards while we worked on our second list. So first, it was the Imperial War Museum, including a moving exhibition on the holocaust. Just out of Normandy, it was fascinating to see the background of why the Allies invaded France. Surprising, too, was the fact that many of the gory details of the genocide were unknown by the allied governments and, naturally masked from the public eye.
For a bit of contrast, we also popped over to the Tate Modern for my parents' introduction to modern art. The museum is housed in a converted hydroelectric plant. It is an impressive structure, but a bit industrial. Its cooling tower dominates the south bank skyline, and provides an interesting contrast to the massive St. Pauls directly across the Thames. I found the museum's galleries fascinating too. One of the first works we saw was two stuffed crows pinned to the drywall with arrows, 'soaring' above an outline of the London skyline. It was a great use of 2D and 3D elements. I think our 'favourite' work, however, was called Equivalent VIII. It consists of an arrangement of yellow bricks, two blocks high by six blocks wide by ten blocks long. Basically, it looks like a segment of a walkway. Tyler and Rachael saw the exhibit later in the week, which led to a great deal of debate in our group. Tyler and dad opposing Rachael and me, the three debates about this singular - shall I say - piece of art constituted the most discussion about any landmark from the entire three-week trip. Rachael and I had the upper hand, of course!
That evening, my parents and I dined on the banks of the Thames. I had venison pie. Oh, pie and chips, how I missed thee! So good to return to British food!
One of the highlights of the London leg for my parents came the next morning. We decided to take a couple hours to meander around SoHo. Stopping in a cafe, we split tea and scones and just chatted. I think dad described it as a true British experience, so I'm glad we got the chance to relax over the delicious pastry. From there, we headed to St. Paul's. It was my third time in the church, and unlike the first two visits, which were during services, this time we picked up audio guides and explored the cathedral. Again, I was blown away by the beautiful mosaic work, which reaffirmed that St. Pauls is my favourite cathedral. We also climbed the dome, providing us a misty 360 degree view of London. That afternoon, we evaded the pouring rain by visiting the Maritime Museum, which I found ok, but not incredible. They did have a good exhibit on the East India Company however. Did you know that the East India Company owned over half of modern day India? The opium that was traded illegally into China had to come from somewhere! Finally, my parents and I capped the evening by taking in The Mousetrap, a play by Agatha Christie that is in its 60th year. I can see why it's the longest running stage production in history - the plot and characters were fantastic, and the acting was quite good. If you're ever in London and keen to see something other than a musical, this is the show for you. (Side note - I'm not going to explain the plot. You'll have to see it for yourself!)
Thursday's excitement was certainly our tour of Parliament. (We had grabbed breakfast in Covent Garden, but there wasn't much to write about... except the talented but way over-keen opera singer...) One can obtain free tours by contacting their MP, so I had procured five tickets for us. It began in Westminster Hall, the oldest part of the complex. Dating back to Norman times, it has been the seat of Parliament, a banquet hall, a court of law (e.g. for Guy Fawkes and Oliver Cromwell)... and filled many other purposes through the years. The guide took us through the Queen's Robing Room (with five of seven heraldic virtues depicted in paintings on the wall), the Royal Gallery (a splendid room used for workspace and meetings with foreign heads of government), and the Prince's Room (a 'small' room serving as the Prince's office and the Queen's antechamber to the House of Lords). Finally, the guide took us into the House of Lords, magnificent for its bright red and gold furnishings. The benches looked decadent, but she torturedly forbid us from sitting down. The Queen's throne at the end of the room was gilded in brilliant gold, a worthy chair for the Head of State. In front of her, the oft-depicted rows of benches faced a central table with a row of books and a pair of chests (aka podiums). According to the guide, the Lords are often chosen because they are experts in their field. Therefore, the often only 'come to work' when the policy being debated pertains to their expertise. As such, work in the House of Lords is rarely about striking down legislation, but fine-tuning the details of legislation to ensure its practicability (English question... what's the difference between practicability and practicality? Sigh...). The best part: anyone can nominate themselves to be a Lord, and I think the age limit is 18. Maybe that's my true calling when I finish my DPhil! Who thinks I should submit an application? I digress.
From there we moved across the Peers' Lobby to the Central Lobby, the room for which the tradition of lobbying one's officials got its name. Members of the public can wait there in hopes of snagging their MP for a chat. Beyond the central lobby was the Commons Lobby and finally the House of Commons. In mirror image to the House of Lords, this green and brown room was also quite lavish, and featured an elaborate chair for the speaker of the Commons. Interestingly, the throne-like seat is fitted with a curtain. In the old days, the speaker was not allowed to leave without suspending the session, so the curtain allowed the speaker to pull out a container to use as a toilet. MPs were asked to speak loudly to each other in order to give the speaker a bit of additional privacy during such embarrassing proceedings.
The rest of the day was good, but not quite as interesting as Parliament. Pub lunch (I had a cheese board!), Museum of London... which we didn't finish before closing, and a trip to Brick Lane, London's famous strip of Indian restaurants. My parents found the haggling of the restaurant owners on the streets to be quite off-putting, but I found it amusing in London, given that I became accustomed to it in China and other locations. At last, we took the recommendation of a friend and ended up at Tayyab's Pakistani Restaurant. Delicious does not even begin to cover it. I do love a good curry, and Tayyab's served some fantastically flavourful dishes. Mom even fought through the spice to bask in the glory of chicken tikka; there was enough mango lassi to put out even the most ferocious mouth-fires.
On our last day in London, I took my parents to nearby Windsor Castle. Having been there already, I won't go into too much detail, but I realized that I like the castle significantly better than the Palace of Versailles. The Garter Room still blew me away, and this time I was fortunate enough to see the lavish Scarlet Room, which had been closed off during my previous visit. One benefit to this visit was that everything had been decorated for Christmas. Wreaths adorned the bannisters and a couple Christmas trees had been arranged throughout the castle. It was wonderfully festive!
In the evening, we met Tyler & Rachael at the Victoria & Albert Museum. It was open late.... kind of. Much to our chagrin, only the ground floor was kept open after 5 pm... except the architecture and glass exhibits. Well, I was quite keen to look at the architecture and mom the glass, so we still managed to fill a couple hours. Soon enough, however, we crossed the street to a Lebanese restaurant, which ticked off another cuisine on my parents' culinary checklists. I daresay they quite enjoyed the meal - which consisted of the typical Mediterranean fare - aside from the drunk or doped up homeless person who came up to our outdoor table just before we paid. He only raged a little though; he just leaned up against another table and started listening in. Typically, quite funny in hindsight.
Twenty-one days gone, I finally returned to dear Oxford. A year and a half gone, and I finally had the opportunity to show my family and friends around the city I call home. Saturday involved a lengthy tour around town, including a full English breakfast, exploring Keble's neo-gothic peculiarities, meandering past the Sheldonian Theatre and Bodleian Libraries, a trip up the High Street and through the covered market, a brief respite over cream tea (i.e. tea & scones) at Queens Lane Cafe, wandering Broad Street, taking in the bustle of Cornmarket Street, past the Oxford Castle, and back up to my apartment. Ok, so perhaps it was a busy day. Naturally, it could only be concluded with pies and a pint at my beloved Victoria Pub. We discussed Equivalent VIII and other joys of England, a fine penultimate evening in Europe.
On the last day, we arose at a reasonable hour and headed out for Port Meadow. I was hoping to take them up to The Trout Inn and Pub, but as we crossed the bridge I realised what lasting impact the months of rain had befell Oxford: Port Meadow was really Port Lake. It's hard to imagine, but what should normally be a two-mile by half mile field with a 50-yard wide river had been entirely covered in water. I was blown away. On either side, we could only make it half way to The Trout before our way was impeded. Thus, we had a fabulous walk... but (sadly for Tyler) no rabbit pasta. After some fish and chips in the Eagle and Child, we returned to their hotel so they could pack. A couple hours of lounging later, and we headed to Keble Hall for dinner. Mercifully, the food was quite decent, and the hall itself was just as spectacular as always. Twas a fine final meal to share with the gang.
As my parents headed back to the hotel, I did share one final experience with Tyler and Rachael: the MCR's first event of term was an evening pub-style quiz. I played on a team with the two of them, and we actually didn't do too poorly. Unfortunately, however, the "Music of the Olympic Opening Ceremony" round did us in. But oh well; we'll get 'em next time!
So three glorious weeks sadly came to an end. We had seen 2000 years of history, art, politics, economy, and disasters laid out before our eyes. The connections between the three cities were fantastic, and I would highly recommend that if anyone wants to get a good idea of European history, they hit Rome/Florence, Paris, and London in succession. They were cultural, economic, and political powers to reckon with, and it was unbelievable to experience the tangled spaghetti of these cities' history first hand. From the Forum to Parliament, the trip was the most incredible three consecutive weeks of travel I have ever taken, so naturally, it's time to go back to the drawing board and see if I can step it up next time!
Very many heartfelt thanks to those who made this experience possible: my parents, Tyler and Rachael, Tyler's parents (especially for picking up the pieces while Tyler's house fell apart!), and my extended family for their various contributions and recommendations. So, where are we going next?
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