On to Oxford

Today, we left Bath on what was supposed to be an easy one hour train ride. When you're old and have a suitcase, however, getting on and off the trains is never easy, what with having to mind the gigantic gap and all.

But before we went to the train station, we had the best eavesdropping experience at breakfast. A woman was explaining to her friends about how she used to visit a friend in Texas whenever she went to the US. (At this point, a friend remarked how strange it is that many people have never visited the US). The Texan is a member of "a prominent Texas family," she reported; but unfortunately, he is a born-again Christian.  What caused their "terrible falling out" was that one day, when they were all visiting mutual friends, the guy's daughter remarked about one the male friends that it was a shame he never married. The British woman told the daughter the man is gay. The prominent Texan had never spoken to his daughter about that which led to the demise of the friendship. The British lady said "apparently, if you're born-again, you must be anti-gay." She went on to say, "The Europeans who settled the US were religious fanatics; perhaps there is a religious fanatic gene."

The rest of the conversation centered on how Americans are isolationists as well as provincial. One person said "You know there's a London everywhere, so if you say you're from London, they assume you're from the closest one. They can't imagine you came all the way from England." Another one said he was 100 miles from the Grand Canyon once and someone asked him where he was going (as though if you're in the vicinity, that must be your destination).

I'm not sure whether these people realized where we're from since if we could hear them, they could hear us and we haven't yet mastered that British accent.

Goodbye Bath

To get to Oxford, you must change trains. The first train takes 45 minutes; the second train takes 12. When we got off the train for the switch, we were happy to see we were on the platform for our second train. But that train didn't come. We found out it had been canceled because a passenger had gotten ill. We thought maybe they would later tell us how he is, but they didn't. They told us the next train, which was only 20 minutes later, would now be on a different platform. We found a lift, went down, crossed over, took a lift up and waited. About 4 minutes before the next train was to arrive, there was an announcement that now the train was coming on the original track. We had to reverse the lift process but quickly.  That train ride was short and there wasn't too large a gap to mind (on the other trains, some nice guys helped us) so we got off and started the "10 minute walk."

For some reason, I didn't think the sidewalks would be so narrow here. Walking with the suitcases was a nightmare; not only because of the condition of the sidewalks, but this city is crowded. Also,it is multi-multi-multi-cultural; we hardly hear any English on the streets. When we got to our guest house, we discovered it has a long, windy staircase to get to Reception. I left Lola on the steps and went upstairs to demand someone carry our bags. They got someone fairly quickly.

This "hotel" is actually a 16 room b & b. We are on the third floor, in the garret. It's a nice big room but there's a lot of steps to get to it. It's actually no worse than many of the apartments Nicole's had in Chicago, but I whined like a baby because we've just had too many stairs on this trip.

We didn't take a hop on-hop off bus anywhere else but the Oxford one is cheap (10 GBP for seniors) and since it was afternoon, we rode around on one for an hour and saw lots of the campuses of the university and other historic sites. Tomorrow, before our 24 hour pass is up, we can use it as regular bus service.

Every service person in England is from Poland. The wait staff in restaurants, all the hotel personnel, clerks in stores, the bus driver. In London I expected that but for some reason, I thought Bath and Oxford would have old British gentleman who would want to tell us all about their cities.  As it turns out, those guys work in the museums and cathedrals. In Bath at the Holburne, an old guy whose job is to stand in one of the rooms all day, told us all about the new director and the Board of Trustees. And no, we did not ask.

For dinner, we went to Jamie Oliver's Italian for the following reasons: (a) it's right down the street; and (b) we could get in with just a half hour wait. According to the guidebook, the queue can be out the door on any night of the week.  I wanted calves' liver but they were out, so we both had the truffle pasta. Unfortunately, the noodles were undercooked and I'm not just saying that because I'm American. The rocket salad, on the other hand, was superb. Great service, most of it by Polish young people.

There are lots of students here in Oxford; not all of them are intellectuals. The good news is, food is cheaper here with lots of restaurants offering student discounts. Jamie's Italian has a separate entrance for its basement pizzeria. 

Finally, in the cities of England comparison, street musicians in London and Bath tend to be folk singers with guitars. In Oxford, they are classical guitarists and we've even seen a classical tuba player.