I promised myself that I would keep this up over break. And sadly, when I'm truly in the thick of England, travelling around its small cities and towns, I've failed. Utterly. But I can make one last attempt...on the night before I return to Oxford. But perhaps a quick recap of my break is in order. So here goes:
Saying Goodbye: The morning of my departure from Oxford was fitting in a small way. The night before involved drinks and a night out with the first year lawyers who had just completed their exams. Needless to say, I was certainly the most sober person there as I had little to celebrate (it was, after all, my last night in Oxford for 6 weeks). I had a Branos to finish the night off and crawled into bed, easily sleeping off the few drinks I had had. I was worried about getting up the next morning ("rise and shine...don't forget the shine"). Apparently I needn't have worried. I was awoken the next morning around 8 by the fire alarm. Anyone in 24 knows that this is a regular occurrence. Although, in two terms time, it has never been set off before midday. I knew one of the conference guests must be to blame. No Oxford student would dream of using their shower at that ungodly hour. The night before I had shouted at Adam that I WOULD be waking him up in the morning to say goodbye (as he stumbled off to post-post-drinks with the rest of the lawyers). I didn't entirely trust him to wake up...but apparently a fire alarm at 8 in the morning does the trick. I returned his pillow and his markers and gave him a hug. It was only recently that it had started to hit me. Soon I wouldn't be able to hear him singing from his room downstairs. Who will cook me beautiful Valentine's Day steak dinners and call me a silly plonker when I miss my train. I realized at that moment just how hard it will be in a few months time to say goodbye....not only to Oxford and the place that has become my new home but the people I've found here. After all, there is only one Adam Eagle (you Oxmas viewers should understand this one).
Stop #1 (Conwy, North Wales): I pulled into Conwy, Wales a bit late but found an excited Alice waiting for me on the platform. It was the perfect home to nervously start out my break in. It's always a bit nerve wracking to enter someone else's home for the first time (although by the end of break I was growing more accustomed to it). After about 10 cups of tea I felt perfectly comfortable. Her parents were excellent about suggesting places to go visit (including Conwy Castle, Liverpool, and Portmeirion). Her father also made a point of cooking traditional English meals and her mother was very liberal with the tea (which is ALWAYS appreciated).
Stop #2 (Pinner, London): Paul (My neighbor in 24). My stay with Paul consisted mainly of playing football (that's soccer btw) in the park, rowing in Hyde Park, going to the Oxford/Cambridge boat race (which consequently Oxford kicked some serious ass at), and watching him run around his kitchen downing glasses of milk (more to come). The boat race was fantastic. For something I was only able to see about three seconds of, it was pretty unbelievable. Our group actually got yelled at for running to the jumbotron in the park behind us too fast after the boats went by. The night after the race was particularly eventful. A small group of us decided to continue on and have a quick drink at the pub before parting ways (turns out this was a mistake, as every pub in London was packed). Paul, Trevor, and I said goodbye to the others and headed back on the train. The plan was: Indian takeaway. After leaving the smallest takeaway restaurant I have ever seen to a round of "enjoy"s from the staff (and one from Paul that he continues to deny) we arrived back at his house. This is where things got spicy to say the least. Trevor spilled some curry on his jeans. Paul debated cleaning it out with stove top wipes. "You're going to have to take your pants off. But I don't have anything that will fit you" he says, sprinting up the stairs. He returns with bright green capri pants and a not quite matching neon green polo that he had apparently traded a t-shirt for at some table tennis tournament (and thought he'd gotten the better deal). Trevor then decided it would be a good idea to eat a chili pod from Paul's curry, then tried to convince us to do the same. My criteria: I would if Paul did. Not the greatest idea I've ever had...but it did bring some comedy: "It's warm, yeah...it's warm, but not that bad" (cue sweating, tears, and spastic arm movements from Paul). Although it took him the longest to feel the effects, he was by far the most traumatized. The curry dinner ended in him downing milk by the pint and shoveling yogurt into his mouth.
Stop #3 (Brighton): The next morning we got a bit of a late start. Trevor and I were both meant to be at the Victoria Coach Station by 12. Let's just say the day involved the two of us sprinting down the gateways in a panic and me getting onto the bus at 11:59 to a rather nervous looking Maggie who said: "Was that Trevor I just saw sprinting that way?". Our time in Brighton was lovely. The pier was a carnival on water...complete with rides, fantastic food (I particularly recommend the donuts and waffles), and all the penny slot machines you could ever desire. The highlight of the trip was certainly the Royal Pavillion, a magnificent Taj Mahal-esque palace not far from our hostel. The ocean was...odd? The water...beautiful, the beaches comfortably rocky...but the people? Absolutely mad. The local pastime was throwing (not skipping) rocks into the water. It was encouraged by adults and children alike. Maggie and I were also surprised by a show of ballroom dancing. We naively assumed the couple was being paid to dance atop a gazebo. Alas, after about five minutes we witnessed them simply stop, turn around, and walk off arm in arm. They were not being paid...they were not a hired act, but rather, two people who apparently could not stop their urge to ballroom dance.
Stop #4 (The lovely Days Inn Westminster, London): A week and a half with the lovely family. Highlights include introducing them to the wonders of the biscuit aisle at Tesco, Kelly not being able to hold it in whilst ordering "Spotted Dick", making Pimm's in the tea kettle, accidentally attempting to go to a Salsa club, me refusing to smile for pictures, and perhaps most of all: getting the opportunity to show them all Worcester College in all its tradition and beauty.
Stop #5 (Stafford, Staffordshire): A lovely weeks stay with the hubbykins, Adam (for those of you who don't know, he is my fake husband. I realize this is a strange concept, but I've decided it fairly accurately describes our relationship). We played tennis (I got sunburned and angry). He also had some family friends come visit so we went to Alton Towers, Splash Landings, and a Safari Park. I was also introduced to "Little Britain". For those easily offended and shocked, this show is not for you. It also might be hard to understand for non-Brits. If curious see links:
//http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0n_Ty_72Qds (Computer Says No)
Stop #6 (Stowmarket): MarioCart!!!! George and I had a lovely time. We played MarioCart, watched the British version of Jerry Springer, walked the dogs through the countryside, and went out for a wonderful night in the Stow.
Stop #7 (Gloucester, Gloucestershire): James and I had a relaxing time at his house. We walked through the Gloucester Cathedral, took drives with his mates through the Cotswolds, drank Pimm's, went for a night out in Cheltenham, and had a fantastic Easter. I also watched two English classics: Hot Fuzz and Shaun of the Dead.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5B8sSBkRF0&feature=related
And it was here, whilst looking out the window into the countryside that I had to remind myself that I was in England. All the years spent dreaming...were leading up to this. And I don't want it to end.
PS: One more sleep until Oxford!!
"And are they as big as he is?"--"Who?"--"The mum and the sister?"--"Same person".
"Why is everyone eating chocolate cake?"--"The Black Forest gateau is on Danny, as punishment for his little indiscretion"--"Sir, I don't think driving under the influence can be called a 'little indiscretion'"--"No, the gateau is for misplacing his helmet the other week. Last night's incident will require something a little more serious. Do you like ice cream?"--"I'm sorry, sir, I don't follow"--"Let's just say that we won't be short of Chunky Monkey for the next month".
