Punting, Cricket, and Christ Church Meadows

Just behind Christ Church College is the wide and tranquil Christ Church Meadows, which stretch from the college to the River Cherwell on the left, and the Thames to the back and to the right.  Cows graze on the yellowed grass, and rest on the shade of oak and beech trees.  A dirt path loops around the meadow, from the back of which one may see the city of Oxford in all its splendor - spires raising up above the green tops of trees.  The view is so clear that each of the individual colleges and monuments can be picked out, from the large, bluish dome of the Radcliffe Camera to the smaller steeple of Exeter College Chapel.

Here we see Humphrey and Turner (inside joke) partaking in a favorite Oxford past time, punting.  On a nice day, this can be a great way to view the colleges from the peaceful banks of the Cherwell.  But be sure to go early in the morning, otherwise the river will be full of French tourists who cannot control their boats.  

Oxford Botanic Gardens

Among the beautiful spires and fields in Oxford, just across the street from Magdalen College, is the Oxford Botanic Gardens - a small, rather intimate garden along the River Cherwell. It is a great place to spend a morning or a sunny afternoon in Oxford. I went there twice during my stay in Oxford, both times with friends.

A photo with friends in the gardens, Magdalen College in the background.

Though the Oxford Gardens are not as large as some (St. Louis, for example), they are unique in many ways.  Here, dreaming spires rise above the tops of trees, and punters pass along the river banks.  

Ode to a Grecian Urn anyone?

A Few Photos from Oxford

The Bodleian - Oxford's main research library. Be very quiet if you are going to go in.


The Eagle and Child is the pub where Tolkien and Lewis met to discuss the progress of their work, in a group known as The Inklings.


A view of Christ Church College from St. Aldate's Street. Notice the swarming tourists - the only drawback of Oxford.


When one can no longer stand the taste of Exeter College Dining Hall food, one should certainly head to the Opium Den, where the food is so good you might even say it is addicting...



All Photos compliments of Mark Smith (fellow student at Exeter College, and E-SU Scholar).

Stratford-Upon-Avon

This past Saturday I went with a group of people to Stratford-Upon-Avon, the now famous home of William Shakespeare. The town was beautiful, but entirely overrun by tourists. I could hardly stand it. Here are a few highlights.

(Photo of Hamlet statue)



We ate at a small pub, the oldest one in Stratford, the name of which I cannot remember. It is fun to see the inside of so many medieval pubs. I had some sort of fish dish. I wasn't crazy about it. Later that night I had fish and chips at The Dirty Duck, another infamous pub in Stratford (the one where all the actors head to after performances).



After lunch we headed to Shakespeare's burial place, a small church on the banks of the River Avon. The church was very quaint, as was the graveyard around it. In fact, there was a group of choir girls practicing just outside (I love when I spontaneously happen upon musi outdoors). The inside, however, where old Will is buried was so crowded with tourists I was almost sorry I'd come - and this is coming from someone who loves Shakespeare.



My friends and I took a rowboat onto the river. I'd never rowed before, and this turned out to be quite a challenge. I did do better than a lot of other people, though. Just had a hard time passing under bridges. The boats were all named after comedic Shakespearean heroines. Ours was Viola, of Twelfth Night.



We concluded the evening with a performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream by the Royal Shakespeare Company. I must say the performance was incredible, though I was bothered a bit by the length of Bottom's play at the end. It was absolutely hilarious, but a bit overdone.

Oxford

I moved into my dorm at Exeter College a week ago today. So far, my experiences here have been incredible. The city is absolutely incredible, and I've made friends from all over the world. As I sit reading in Fellow's Garden I often stop and think, "J.R.R. Tolkien once sat and read in this garden." I revel over the fact that I am studying in the same library where Oscar Wilde studied. I am walking the same streets T. S. Eliot walked. I've sat in the same pub where C.S. Lewis and Tolkien sat and discussed the progression of their novels! So many great minds have gathered here over the years - and to think, I am experiencing everything they once did! I can think of little which could be so satisfying.

This is the view from my window. If you were to look down you would see Broad Street. To the right is one of my favorite pubs, The White Horse. Very quiet, local place. Next to that is Blackwell's Bookstore, another of my favorite places. I spend a lot of time there reading and have coffee or tea. Just down from that is the Sheldonian Theatre and the University's major library.



Here is a photo of Fellow's Garden, probably the best place in the world to sit and read, but also nice for small chats or frisbee. Just a few feet from where this photo was taken is a door through which Nicole Kidman walked in The Golden Compass (the film, not the book). Philip Pullman, the author, actually attended Exeter College as an undergraduate. Jordan College in the book is based off of Exeter.



On Friday I attended the Oxford vs. Cambridge Cricket Match. A few friends and I took a bottle of wine and sat in University Park watching the boys go at it. I'd like to say it was great fun, but cricket isn't particularly exciting.

Barcelona

Barcelona was much more slow-paced than Paris. The people are friendlier, the city is clear, and everything moves a bit more slowly. I had a hard time finding my hostel, though. It didn't have a sign (supposedly it is not allowed in that part of town). Once there, however, I really loved the hostel. It was in a clean, residential neighborhood, and the atmosphere was very welcoming. The hostel itself was quite small, which made the experience much more intimate. I will say that I missed the A/C of the US. Like many places in Europe, the hostel had none - and if you've ever been to Barcelona in the summer, you know how it feels to sweat yourself to sleep.

Because the city is so centralized I didn't bother with a metro pass. I walked everywhere. My first stop was Gaudi's famous Sagrada Familia. The other side is actually a lot more interesting, but I only have a shot of this one.



I then walked southward toward the sea. I had little idea what direction I was walking in, and had no map at the time. I sort of just guessed. But wandering around in a European city may allow one to stumble upon amazing things - like Barcelona's Arc de Triomf (as opposed to the Parisian Arch de Triomph).



I walked and walked and walked until I made my way to the sea. When I finally reached the water, at a port near the beginning of La Rambla, I took of my shoes, rolled up my sleeves, and laid down on the pier for about fifteen minutes or so, just resting.



When I as finished resting I put my shoes back on, and began to walk up La Rambla. The area was quite literally flooded with tourists, so I didn't spend too much time just walking around. It was interesting to see the street performers, and to look at some of the local artwork for sale. I bought a water color of the Sagrada Familia.



Finally, I headed to the Barri Gotic. Construction was taking place on the Barcelona Cathedral, so no photos of that, but I enjoyed just walking around the crowded streets of the Gothic district. A number of different musical performers were playing on the street, but this one in particular was very good. I was running low on cash at this point, so I am sorry to say I didn't slip them a Euro.

Les Catacombs

In the late 18th century, France faced a period of political upheaval (The French Revolution). This revolution, centered mostly in Paris, was extremely violent, and lead the city to virtually overflow with bodies. There were so many bodies that the Parisians ran out of room in which to bury them. To solve this problem, a number of cemeteries, most famously the Cemetery of the Innocents, were emptied to make room. Under the cover of night, bodies were dug up, and priests carted the bodies into the cities former limestone quarries - quarries which centuries earlier had been used to build such structures as Notre Dame. The bones were stacked on top of one another in these underground tunnels, creating a massive grave beneath the city.

Today, the Catacombs exist as an extensive series of tunnels beneath the city, lined with the skeletal remains of the city's former inhabitants. Many of these bodies now rest unmarked, in the very tunnels from which they extracted the rock to construct their lives' work.



It is rather difficult to get a good picture in the Catacombs. Flashes are strictly prohibited, and light is scarce.



Look closely in this one, you may see a ghost!

Paris II

By the morning of the second day in Paris I was tired and worn. My body was aching. My feet were blistered, my shoulders were sore, and I could feel the sweat from the day before lingering on my skin. I hardly felt as if I could take another day like the one before it. But somehow it worked out. I mustered the energy to get out of bed, showered, and made my way to the Metro.

My first stop was to be Montmartre, a vibrant, once very artistic quarter - now more of a tourist trap, but still worth going. Unfortunately, I got off at the wrong Metro exit. Normally in Paris this is not a big deal. If you get off at the wrong Metro exit, often the one you meant to get off at is only a block or two away. However, for those of you who don't already know, Montmartre is located on the top of a massive hill in the center of Paris. If you exit the Metro on the correct side of the hill, you can take a lift to the top. If you exit on the incorrect side, you have to take the stairs.

Having never been to Paris, let alone Montmartre, I was completely lost. According to the Metro map, I wasn't far from Montmartre. But I certainly wasn't in the legendary Parisian art district. As I approached the stairs (which I now know lead to Montmartre) I began to hear church bells. Knowing that the Sacre Couer is in Montmartre, I knew the district must be that way; however, the idea of walking those steps on that morning was unbearable. I could hardly fathom the feat as a possibility. Still, I mustered the courage and the will, and began mounting the steps to Montmartre, bells to the Sacre Couer chiming as I climbed.

When I reached the top I rested. I sat down, drank my water, and ate a sandwich I had bought that morning at a local grocery store in Laumiere. I watched tourists snap photos of the view, and knew that I'd done something they hadn't. I knew that I'd earned my right to that view. I'd earned my place, if only for the day, in Montmartre. I stood, snapped a photo, and headed to the heart of the quarter, the Sacre Couer.



Reaching the Sacre Couer, I was exhausted. I'd hardly slept more than eight or nine hours since I'd left Louisville on the 19th. Today was the 21st. I stopped, sat down on the steps outside the church, and admired the view. Nearly the entire city of Paris can be seen from this vantage.

Eventually I stood up, and walked inside the church. As I entered, I realized mass was in progress. At first I thought this odd. No where else I'd been had been holding Mass. Then it dawned on me. It was Sunday morning. This was Sunday morning mass. I sat at an empty pew, expecting to sit only for a moment, but could not get back up. Mass in such an incredible structure, even in a language which I speak very little of, was overpowering. I was in awe. Absolute awe. I sat through the entire mass before making my way around the rest of the basilica, and then exited via the front doors.



After leaving the Sacre Couer, I wandered for some time about the quarter of Montmartre. I watched musicians play, artists sketch, and people carry about in restaurants and shops. I bought a scarf, a painting, and walked through the Espace Dali (a museum of Salvadore Dali's early work).

Leaving Montmartre, I walked down the hundreds of steps of the "correct" side, and wandered to the nearest Metro station. From there I took a train to Montparnasse, had a baguette with tuna, and got in line for the Catacombs. What I did not realize was that the line for the Catacombs moves very slowly, and the caverns are shut and locked at 4:00 pm. I waited in line for about 45 minutes, and was then not permitted to enter. I had to wait until Tuesday morning before I would be able to return.

I did, however, snap a cool picture of this Lion statue in Montparnasse:



That night was the Fete de Musique, an annual music festival in Paris where the entire city comes alive. People are playing bongos and guitars at restaurants, and people from the street come and gather round. A number of bands and DJs set up around the banks of the canal. Everybody drinks and dances. I danced until the sun went down and all the restaurants closed their doors.

The next day I headed to the Latin Quarter, a vibrant center of learning where many university students may be found, as well as the head of the University of Paris system (kind of like the University of California, it is broken up into a number of different campuses, but work under the same university umbrella), The Sorbonne.

After this, I headed to Sainte Chapelle and the Palais Justice. I had to pay to get in, and did not think it was worth it. Also, a very rude German couple tried to cut me in line. I was not happy about that.



Jill and I went to dinner that night at a small restaurant not far from the canal. We had kippers, which were not good, and steak, which was wonderful. We talked to a woman about the Sans Papiers (Without Papers), illegal immigrants who are allowed to live and work, and do pay taxes in France, but are not given any rights by the government. The majority of them are African immigrants from former French colonies.

Afterwards, Jill and I walked back to the hostel, and I went to bed rather early that night.

Paris

My first day in Paris:

The first night, despite not having slept since I left the airport in Louisville (so, nearly 30 hours), I had a hard time sleeping. Still jet-lagged, my body decided to interpret my sleep - which in Kentucky would have been sometime in the evening, but was actually around 10:30 in France - as a nap. The result: only about 3 hours of sleep. However, this allowed me to be up and about as the sun rose on the Villette Canal, which runs into the Seine. I took a walk in the crisp morning air, and snapped a few photos. I also bought a metro pass, which allowed me to move with ease around the city for the next five days.



After taking a morning walk, I headed back to the hostel for breakfast, and met up with Jill, my traveling companion. We had a quick meal, and headed out for a day of exploration. We literally hit nearly every major tourist attraction in Paris within a matter of hours. The following photographs are from the first day:

We first headed to Le Musee du Louvre, which was absolutely enormous. I spent most of my time with the Greek, Roman, and Egyptian art. After about four hours I was exhausted. So was Jill, and we left.



Leaving the Louvre, Jill and I walked the Champs-Elysee (about two miles) to the Arch de Triomph. It was far larger than I had ever fathomed, not to mention far more incredible



We took the metro from there to the Eiffel Tower.



And then to the Cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris.



I spent the rest of the night relaxing and drinking with Parisians on the Canal near our hostel. It was Friday night, and the river's edge was crowded with people, all sitting in circles by the water, smoking cigarettes, and drinking wine and eating crackers and chips. I talked American politics and British literature with a French woman, and listened to a couple of men playing the blues on a bench by the sidewalk.