Back To Where It All Began

My baby steps into Europe began when I applied for a summer course at Oxford. Before leaving for London, I took meticulous notes on how to catch the bus to Oxford, where to get off the bus, how to find my college. I remember dragging a heavy bag through a medieval door and across a courtyard only to find I had to carry the aforementioned heavy bag up 4 flights of stairs to my room.

My room without air-conditioning that is, in one of the hottest summers to hit Britain in decades. I was off to a good start.

Besides this rocky beginning, my month spent in Oxford was one of the happiest in my life. It is when I developed my love of long walks, to wander, to get very lost, and find the way back. I spent days in the Bodleian Library opening dusty old books while researching my papers. The notes by former students, dated from the 50s, 60s, and 70s were almost as interesting as the books themselves.

One of my first days in Oxford I wandered down to the botanical gardens. I don’t remember what it cost to enter – but I do remember holding up the line as I flipped the coins over trying to decipher how much they were worth. During that month of study I tried fish & chips for the first time, saw more than one Beatles cover band, and even heard a lecture from an ex-KGB spy. Only in Oxford.

Tomorrow I’m once again boarding a plane for London. With a friend studying in Oxford I’m heading back to where it all began to spend a few days revisiting old haunts, and this time, I’m going to get out on one of those punts (river canoes) that everyone who has been to Oxford is always raving about. 

I might even go for a stroll in the botanical gardens.

Next: photo essay of Oxford in springtime.