I'm busy wondering how soon I can find an excuse for another few days visiting Louise in Oxford. Probably have to be after Christmas now .... maybe Derek and I can have a rather more successful weekend celebrating our wedding anniversary than last year, or Justin's plans to visit the UK will materialise. It just feels rather flat now that the trip I'd been looking forward to for so long is over, with nothing to look forward to other than the drudgery of work and boring days. Still, at least now I'm home I can eat something other than chicken, which has been the main ingredient of every meal since Tuesday!
This time I went down with my Dad, so he could experience Oxford university first hand and get a taste of Louise's lifestyle as a student. We booked the college guest rooms for two nights (Dad bagging the double room, which is by far the best). I made all the arrangements, which worked very well. There were a couple of hiccups on the way down ..... Dad tried to board the plane at Newcastle with nail scissors in his hand luggage and wasn't very pleased when all his belongings were searched and the scissors confiscated! Then we were put in a holding stack for 20 minutes outside Heathrow and missed our intended bus connection, but we arrived eventually on Tuesday afternoon and were met by Louise. Our rooms at the college were hidden away in what resembles a rabbit warren and it took Dad and I considerable time to learn the route between the two. There is no "first floor" or "ground floor", all the rooms being on slightly different levels, connected by random staircases. For instance, although both the guest rooms are roughly the same distance off the ground, to go from one to the other meant climbing first up and then down a flight of stairs, and when I get it developed I will put on here a photograph of what must be the weirdest door anywhere! Only waist high, you have to duck down to get through it - Louise calls it the Alice in Wonderland door.
We had time to travel out to Summertown and have a look at Louise's flat - she spent the first two years in halls, but is now living out to the north of Oxford in property owned by the university. We changed for formal hall, normally quite a busy occasion, but this particular evening we were the only group (apart from the high table). Formal hall takes a bit of getting used to, but I like the fact it's perfectly OK to turn up in either a ballgown, academic gown or jeans! Oxford is generally a place where you can be as eccentric as you like and nobody bats an eyelid, since it has so many weird customs and traditions anyway. We have to stand up when the high table enter, endure a lengthy latin grace with two amens, before we can eat. And if the high table finish eating and leave before us, we stand up again in complete silence while they exit.
After being given chicken to eat on the plane, neither Dad nor I were thrilled to be served chicken again, but it was still an enjoyable meal with Louise, her boyfriend and another maths undergraduate for company. Afterwards we spent a couple of hours in the college bar before retiring for the night.
The following day, after a huge breakfast, we went round The Oxford Story and took an open topped bus tour, followed by some shopping and a visit to the Ashmolean musuem. Then it was "maths drinks" - an hour of drinks and chat for all the maths people at Univ before formal hall again. This time there were a lot more people, and guess what was on the menu again? Chicken! We rounded the evening off with more pool/darts/table football in the college bar and had a reasonably early night.
Today just consisted of travelling home, but we once again enjoyed a splendid breakfast. Staying in the college is extremely good value .... but the two guest rooms need booking very early. We caught the bus back to LHR and sat in Gate 5 watching planes land in a steady stream, 3 visible in the sky approaching at all times, at consistently spaced intervals. We were further reminded what a ridiculously busy place Heathrow is while we waited to take off. The captain warned us of a "lengthy delay" as we were in a queue for the runway and he could count at least 12 planes ahead of us! Indeed, it was a strange sight as we inched forward as though in an ordinary traffic jam, except these were planes not cars.
We might have guessed the inflight meal would be chicken ... Dad finally had enough and asked for the vegetarian option. As we literally came down to earth with a bump, I realised that it was back to dreary routine, at least for another week until the school holidays. I suppose most of life consists of earning enough money to enjoy a precious few days in the year. Maybe I just feel particularly flat because for a while, I wondered if this trip would even happen and what might be going on in my absence, given the rather nerve wracking events immediately prior to it! I was totally focussed on nothing upsetting my plans and now that it's back to normal, no more tension, I suddenly hate "normal". I enjoyed the break from the internet particularly! Now as I sit watching the clock edge towards 9pm, I'm reminded of having to organise myself for a not too late night and the alarm waking me at 4.40 am for swimming, then a "split shift" of 5 hours work, followed a few hours later by BT call centre work till 9pm. Somehow, I must find time to pack for the weekend at Embleton. YUK!
16th October 2003
Edit 2.2.05 In fact, that was the calm before the storm. My complaints about being back to "normal" suddenly look a bit sick in view of the events that followed beginning November 5th. I can see now how complacent I'd become in assuming there were after all, going to be no consequences to the PCA episode.
