Oxford

The last four days have been quite tiring – I’ve been either in a bus or train for a total of at least 12 hours methinks. But then again, one is prone to exaggerate when in the process of ‘healing’ – it’s only during the last couple of hours that I’ve been feeling the effects of the prolonged activities that I’ve been part of, now that I’m able to sit and do nothing. The old cliché of having to have a holiday after a holiday will hold true for me this weekend, where my main activities will consist of chatting with Sweetie, grocery shopping and sleeping.

It’s been a while since I’ve last met up with Jaja, a person that both Sweetie and I are most affectionate of. Naturally, there were a lot of stories to be exchanged, especially considering that this was the first time that we’ve met since I entered the world of employment and she started her new post.

The city of Oxford was intriguing for the role it has played in the development of the arts and sciences throughout the centuries. It was interesting to note that so-and-so did this here, and someone else did that there. The students had an ‘air’ about them, but if one is educated in surroundings of such heritage and splendour (where dinner on any given night would put my graduation ceremony to shame), it is no wonder that other educational establishments would be looked down with disdain. Having said that, I seem to remember being more impressed with Cambridge.




One of the things that would prevent me from recommending Carlisle as a workplace to anyone would be the fact that it is at such a distance from various events that are commonplace in locations such as Oxford or London (where I stopped on the way back). I could only sigh in envy as I read the adverts proclaiming that Caravaggio’s and Edvard Munch’s works will be showcased in London, or that every one of Beethoven’s piano sonatas will be performed in Oxford.

Our social outings consisted mainly of the pursuit of gastronomic satisfaction, in which we were quite successful. On the first night out, we had some lovely Chinese food at a place called Café Opium (wonder what went into the food…), I had a gorgeous red snapper at a French restaurant the next night and we finished off with some Thai/Malaysian food (the Thai green curry tasted exactly like a masak lemak dish) last night.

Whilst in Oxford, we did the usual touristy bits e.g. visiting Christchurch College, staring adoringly at T.Rex over at the museum and wondering out loud if the deers at Magdalene College were tasty. We also did a bit of shopping – I got myself a book on photography for some reason (in that same shop, I came to realise that Warhol’s work is rather fascinating, as well as Lady Godiva, a painting by John Collier, an artist hitherto unknown to me), Jaja got her Halloween costume and in one of the more extreme examples of my impulsive shopping behaviour, I got myself a suit. In my defence, it IS a rather handsome suit.




The bulk of the shopping was reserved for our visit to the Bicester village outlet though. This time round, Jaja outdid herself with a couple of rather striking shoes. I got myself a few trinkets, along with a blouse for Sweetie that I think she’ll look good in.

Looking back, it’s rather amazing that we walked as much as we did, but the effect did take its toll on us ‘cause we were supposed to have gone salsa-ing that night, but we decided to stay back and rent a DVD instead (Alexander – a rather tedious film to watch). But there weren’t any regrets, since we had done our fair bit of dancing (ranging from Sean Paul to Fatboy Slim) the night before.

As I mentioned earlier, I stopped over at London earlier today for a couple of hours. Took the opportunity to dash over to the Selfridges’ and Harrods’ food stalls to get myself some cookies and Krispy Kreme doughnuts. There wasn’t much time to enjoy London properly, which was something I’d have loved to do since it’s been a while since I last went down and I left it in rather different circumstances. But I’m sure I’ll be back before the new year and hopefully next time round, I’ll be able to catch a musical or at least visit a gallery.




The train ride back was rather uneventful, but I was too engrossed in Johnathan Strange and Mr Norrell, a book that has kept me company throughout my journeys since I started reading it on Monday. The story (of Britain’s only 2 practising magicians) has grown on me, and I was hoping to finish it by this evening. But that proved to be too ambitious an undertaking, and I’ll just wait ‘till the weekend to devour the last 200 pages of this 1000-page novel.