So It's Been A Long Time

...And today marks the first day of being a tourist in Oxford. Thus far, I've entirely hidden behind the mask of "student", stepping into the street to rush quickly around tourists whilst barely avoiding getting hit by a double decker and sighing impatiently as they clog up Cornmarket Street on the way to my tutorial at Magdalen. But today I allowed myself to be a tourist. Not the really annoying sort that wrestle you down and force you to take endless pictures of them giving the peace sign in front of something ridiculous and not even remotely attractive or historical.

I've always found that a sign of being truly centered in a place is when people flag you down to ask for directions. This has happened numerous times in Oxford. But particularly in the last few days. One pair of guys stopped Ashley and I the other day to ask us where Oxford University is. How do you find a polite way to say...uh, you're standing in it, you prat? People are hugely unaware that Oxford University is basically a city, and its the colleges that are important. No one wears Oxford Uni kit, but you know everyone is sporting their Worcester College jumper...because "There's only one Woosta College! Only one Woosta College! Walking along, singing a song, walking in a Woosta Wonderland". More than any other college, I think Worcester has its pride sorted.

Anyways. On to the tourism. I spent the majority of my day in the Ashmolean Museum, which is actually just down the road from Worcester. Unfortunately during term I don't ever seem to have the time to go in, so I made it my goal to tick it off the list. I spent just about three hours wandering through the different galleries of ancient artifacts from all over the world. Call me a history/museum dork...I don't care. It was brilliant. From there I walked down the High Street and hit up St. Mary the Virgin Church. This church used to be the entirety of Oxford University. I was pleased to discover a little known fact about Amy Robsart (Robert Dudley's wife, Earl of Leicester and favorite of Elizabeth I). After her mysterious death she was taken in coffin to Worcester College, then brought to the Church for the funeral. Although a grave has never been found, she is rumored to be buried somewhere in the Church. My main purpose in going here was to climb the tower, which is meant to have the best views of the city. I was not disappointed. From every angle there were postcard views of the different colleges, with brief glimpses of the Christ Church meadows in the distance. Apart from some annoying tourists who wouldn't vacate, it was a beautiful moment. One of those moments where I just had to reflect on how lucky I am to be here...in Oxford.

Onward to Glory. After a slightly dangerous climb back down the 13th century tower, I went to the Vault Cafe. A place I've always meant to try out. I'm extremely loyal to Combibo's, but this place is just cool. It's actually in the Church...kind of. And the inside looks legit. I ordered myself a Chai Latte and rushed to grab a seat outside in the garden as it was sunny and beautiful. I sat down in a tiny wooden chair, sipped my latte, mused a bit over the fact that I was inches away from a 14th century tomb (how cool), and picked up my Hemingway. What an absolutely perfect day.

"Thenceforth, eternall vnion shall be made Betweene the antions different afore, And sacred Peace shall louingly perswade The warlike minds, to learne her goodly lore, And ciuile armes to exercise no more: Then shall a royall virgin raine, which shall Stretch her white rod ouer the Belgicke shroe, And the great Castle smite so sore with all, That is shall make him shake, and shortly learne to fall"--Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene

"In spite of the roaring of the young lions at the Union, and the screaming of the rabbits in the home of the vivisect, in spite of Keble College, and the tramways, and the sporting prints, Oxford still remains the most beautiful thing in England, and nowhere else are life and art so exquisitely blended, so perfectly made one"--Oscar Wilde