Welcome back faithful readers!
And thank you for bearing with me while I took a brief hiatus from posting.
Many times this week I’ve sat up at 4 am watching the sunrise and finishing
some work for my tutorial when it crossed my mind that I should begin a new
post, but alas, sleep always won out. So here I am, taking a break from the
massive amount of finals week work to share a little love and adventure with
anyone still interested. Here goes week five, one of the best and most bizarre weeks
in the history of Oxford:
On Sunday – after an exciting
weekend at Bath – Cody, Jamie and I set out yet again in search of adventure.
We decided to attend a service at the chapel of Magdalen College (1) to see the
inside of the church we had heard so much about and (2) to explore the grounds.
We were fascinated by the thought of a campus that contained a deer sanctuary
and a school body that could enjoy these creatures’ presence without plotting
ways to hunt them down. (Yes, MSU, that was a cheap shot). Magdalen certainly didn't
disappoint. I’ve had the privilege of exploring many of the colleges in Oxford
during my time here, but this one certainly sits in the upper tier for
aesthetic appeal. I’ll let you be the judge:
Standing beside a door at Magdalen... it's just my size!
Magdalen is basically exactly what you picture when you're reading The Secret Garden
Gate leading to a path by the river
The deer park! We may have gone into a restricted area to take these pictures... oops..
I'm fascinated with these gates all around Oxford. They're like tiny mazes, and only one person can go through at a time. These could never exist in America.
Naturally, we weren’t allowed to
take pictures of the inside of the chapel during the service, but I fell in
love with the magnificent stained glass windows all colored in neutral browns
and blacks and undoubtedly the most beautiful of their kind that I have seen in
the past five weeks. The morning service was complete with a positively angelic
choir of young boys and an elaborate baptism during which all members of the
congregation had water sprinkled on them. So ended a morning of new
experiences…
My attempt to recreate the experience via internet pics: This is the inside of the chapel.
Beautiful brown stained glass
Trust me, it was breathtaking in person.
What came next took on a
far less...traditional feel. Although we’ll skip over most of the afternoon spent
wading through the juvenilia of Austen and the Brontes in the Bodleian’s upper
reading room, we can’t forget that it was the 15th of June
and apparently World Naked Bike Ride Day. Yes, that’s right. As I looked over
the edge of my book of children’s literature to see what all the commotion was, I
witnessed a group of individuals parading through Oxford entirely in the nude,
advocating bike-friendly communities and sustainable resources.
Now, Dear Reader, I did not take
pictures of these environmentally friendly ladies and gentlemen for obvious
reasons, but if you find this tale a little far-fetched, I present you with
this URL. Follow it and be amazed:
On Monday morning, Lien and I
prepared ourselves for our most daring adventure yet! After two trains, three
hours, and a little less than a mile trek, we found ourselves at the front
entrance to Lyme Park. Why all the hassle to see an old estate, you ask? First,
because it’s a beautifully maintained relic of the English history, art,
architecture, culture, etc that Lien and I are absolutely enamored with. Second,
it was a film site for the 1995 BBC production of Pride and Prejudice. So essentially, Mr. Darcy’s house. Let’s just
take a moment to admire the pinnacle of masculine greatness that is Colin Firth
as Mr. Darcy:
YES.
Third, and most important for
myself, traveling to Lyme Hall meant getting lost in the English moorland, the
landscape that inspired the Bronte sisters, the dramatic backdrop for Catherine
and Heathcliff’s great romance, and the place I fell in love with as I fell in
love with Victorian literature.
Let’s go on a micro-tour of the
estate and house. Warning: I took over 300 photos that day. So buckle in.
So begins our walk through the park. Remember, this entire estate belonged to one family for hundreds of years.
Off in the distance, you can see "The Cage," a building used as a hunting lodge for the family.
My first time looking at the moors.
Up close and personal with "The Cage." It was abandoned and eerie!
After about an hour long walk through the park, we made it to Lyme Hall! Or should I say Pemberley?
Lien and I warmed up with some tea in the wine cellar of the house.
The front entrance of Lyme Hall. It was positively gorgeous inside. Relics and curious stories crowding every room.
Then, as if things couldn't have gotten any better, the lovely staff at Lyme Hall dressed Lien and I in traditional attire for our stroll around the garden, free of charge!
Naturally, I spent the afternoon pretending Lyme Hall was my own home.
It just looks so right!
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Taking a moment to appreciate the little things on this tremendous English adventure
After exploring the house, we summoned our courage, climbed a few fences, and made our way to the moors!
It doesn't get more beautiful than this.
A rare selfie
And here's when the emotions started rolling in...
I felt that I could finally understand Emily's connection with the moors, a love so strong that she could barely leave them for a few months at a time without becoming desperately ill.
Our journeys took us all through the woods..
And up countless hills...
To hidden treasures...
And down several rocky paths...
And ended in the deer sanctuary of Lyme Park where nearly a hundred deer lined up to tell us goodbye!
I think I left a part of myself out there on those moors..
I’m not sure I can fully express
how much my experience at Lyme Hall meant to me, wandering through rooms full
of ancient books and gorgeous artwork, strolling around the garden in
traditional clothing, braving the moors and feeling as Catherine once said
“half-savage and hardy, and free.” I can only say that it was by far my
greatest experience in England, and that I won’t easily forget the way I felt
so completely whole and excited for what my future will bring. I’m determined
to make it back one day.
On Tuesday, I woke up with the
magic of Lyme Hall in my eyes and ears and sore calves. But I was ready to take
on one of Shakespeare’s greatest works, Hamlet,
and the third Bronte paper that had seemed impossible just two days before. After
class, I spent the majority of the afternoon reading and highlighting and
researching with a passion that surprised even the overachiever in me.
Satisfied with my progress for one day, I pried myself away from the reading
room in the Bodleian and gladly accepted my lovely new British friend’s
invitation for dinner at New College and an evening sipping wine and enjoying
the college gardens.
On Wednesday, it was back to
reality and the stress of somehow crafting a tutorial paper that consolidated
all of the many directions my research on the juvenilia had taken me. Easier
said than done, I’m afraid, and the afternoon and all of the sleepless night
included an unending struggle to come up with eight decent pages that wouldn’t
embarrass me in front of my tutor. Even now, I’m not entirely sure I was
successful. Oh Wednesdays… how I dread you…
Thursday brought the first rays
of hope that I had survived the week. After a horrific incident in a coffee
shop during which I realized that DropBox had lost 1,000 of the 2,000 words of
my third tutorial paper which almost brought me to tears…in public…I somehow
located the “conflicted” file on my online account, finished it and turned it
in within minutes of the deadline. Needless to say, I thought I deserved a
night off.
Cody, Alex and I spent the
evening at New College’s chapel enjoying a special evensong performance by the
New College boys’ choir. There’s something particularly special about listening
to a beautiful choir in a historic church while the sun goes down. The
congregation was asked to join the choir for a walk around the courtyard.
Although I didn’t know the words, the majority of the audience sang along with
the choir as we made our way back to the church. It was spiritual, to say the
least. After the service, Cody, Alex and I stopped by The White Horse for
dinner (where I had my first apple and cheddar sandwich, a keeper for sure!)
and made our way back to the flat where we planned on watching a movie. I, however,
enjoyed a two hour nap before dragging myself back to bed and sleeping for the
entire night…at last!
We’re getting to the good stuff,
I promise!
On Friday, I started the day with
Dr. Johnston, meeting for our third tutorial. Only one session left! Although
she picked up on the struggle I went through to produce the third paper, she
pointed out some promising notes for further inquiry and ended the session by
assuring me that I was doing “well” in the course. I’ll take it! After our
meeting, I rushed back to the flat, wrote a play review for Dr. Anderson, and
packed my bags for…Stonehenge!
At 6pm, Sally, Jamie, Gabby and I
made the trek to Oxford’s train station and caught the next ride to Salisbury. I
know what you’re thinking. “Stonehenge on a Friday night? Won’t it be…dark?”
Precisely the point, Dear Readers. This wasn’t just any Friday night. It was
Friday the 20th of June, the summer solstice and a huge day for
tourism at Stonehenge. Rumor has it that the sun on the morning of the 21st
rises perfectly in line with the stones making for a breathtaking view seen
only once a year. Though we had been warned that this particular night
attracted thousands of people from all walks of life (some of whose hobbies
were questionable at best)…We couldn’t miss a chance for adventure!
I will admit we were a little
nervous at the start of the evening, and the painted faces and music-festival-esque
clothing that met us at the bus stop did little to soothe our nerves. However,
when we arrived to the site itself, we were too far to turn back and too
overwhelmed with the spectacle of it all to think about silly things like
personal safety. (I kid, of course, we were very safe, and the premises were
well patrolled by hundreds of officers and workers). We managed to squeeze
ourselves into the middle of the crowd and stake out a spot on one of the rocks
themselves! (This is one of the only days per year that tourists are permitted
to enter Stonehenge and touch/sit on the stones).
See that orange circle in the center? That's where we spent the whole evening!
Our smiling faces so ready for adventure
We even got our faces painted :)
Obligatory picture of the stones themselves
It started getting a little crowded around sunset.
Very crowded... I believe I read that the count got up to 37,000 people at its highest point!
From our central position, where
we spent the entirety of the evening, we got a spectacular view of all of the
bizarre events that ensued. Druids in traditional garb chanting and playing
drums, families picnicking, people dancing, LOTS of drinking etc etc. The
ladies and I passed the evening getting our faces painted by a very talented
young lady (who also happened to be an English major!) and chatting with people
from around the world. During my most incredible cultural experience yet, the
girls and I struck up conversation with a group of soldiers stationed nearby.
One from southern England, one from Wales, one from Northern Ireland, one from
London, and many more all speaking English and all with a unique accent. As I
sat there fascinated by this moment of collision between so many cultures, I thought
about how isolated Americans are from so many beautiful peoples and customs,
how that feeds into our ethnocentrism, how primitive practices like racial and religious
discrimination are in the modern day, how different things might be if every
person had the opportunity to travel abroad and throw off the cloak of exotic mystery
that shroud other countries in our eyes, how simple yet life changing it is to
say: “This is another human who belongs to another country, who experienced
another childhood, who has cultivated this unique accent… and isn’t that just
beautiful and amazing?”
Around 4 am, after a sleepless
night on a cold rock, Jamie, Sally, Gabby and I stood up with the crowd and
watched the sun come up over the hills on a cloudless morning. It was indeed a
beautiful sight, perhaps made all the better for all the time and effort we put
in to see this sight. We stood amazed for over an hour before stiffly making our
way down and walking back toward the buses to Salisbury, cold and exhausted but
happy that we made the trip.
Sunrise over the stones
30+ hours of no sleep later...
Before catching a train back to
Oxford, we decided to explore the town of Salisbury in search of the famous
Salisbury cathedral and the Magna Carta. As on so many occasions, the extra was
well worth it. The cathedral was enormous and stunning and contained the most
complex stain glass windows I have seen thus far:
Salisbury Cathedral
Courtyard inside the cathedral
More ornate ceilings
The most complex stained glass I've ever seen!
...And the most colorful!
After taking in the sights and collectively
falling asleep while sitting up on a pew (oops!), we decided to make our way
back to Oxford and to our beds. (Have you noticed that the theme of this blog
is sleep?)
Actual picture of us sleeping in church... kudos to Jamie for capturing this moment forever
Anyway, six hours later, I was up and at ‘em again and spent the
evening watching Sex and the City with Alex and the lovely Oliver and enjoying
a perfect view of the fireworks from Christ Church’s Ball from across the
gardens of New College. *sigh*
If you’ll allow me, I’ll save you
the burden of reading a summary of the day’s events for Sunday, Monday and even
Tuesday because they included me working, napping, foregoing a trip to London
to do work, working some more, aaaaaand working.
Phew! Now that’s a lengthy post,
but I’m glad to be caught up again. Only four days until I’m back in America. (I
have so many mixed emotions!!) In that time, I somehow plan to squeeze one
tutorial paper, my final class session, a group presentation, an annotated
bibliography, packing, oh and a trip to Paris. Stay tuned to see if I survive
it all. Who knows where my next post will be from… Paris? London Airport?
Florida? All I know is, this isn’t goodbye.
Thank you for "moor" fabulous adventures! ;) What a wonderful beautiful place. :) I also can tell that you now love stained glass as much as I do. <3 I know your emotions are mixed about leaving, but I'll be so happy that I can hug you again. Love you Kylie <3
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