Saturday, July 29, 2023
Oxford: Another Enchanting (Graduation) Day in the City of Dreaming Spires
Getting Out of London:
I am always excited on a trip to Oxford. It brings sharply to my mind my very first journey in 1987 with my friend Firdaus by my side, as we made our way to Oxford to become students there. Other than the fact that we really got to know each other on that journey, I remember sheep in the meadows, cows in the corn. Since then I have done this journey countless times. So, I left my house at 6.30 am, caught the 44 bus from Battersea Park Road to Victoria, got to the Coach Station and since I had over 45 minutes to kill, began to look for breakfast. Sainsbury Local was just across the road, but it only opens at 7.00 am—I had a few minutes’ wait and decided to take a stroll along lovely Elizabeth Street to windowshop.
Window Shopping on Elizabeth Street in London:
I am familiar with Elizabeth Street as the place from where Jo Malone first launched her business in perfume. After she sold Jo Malone to Estee Lauder and gave herself a five-year break before launching another new parfumerie from scratch (Jo Loves), she based it where her love affair with perfume began—on Elizabeth Street. I have been to her lovely fragranced shop here on more occasions than I can remember and this time too, I made a bee line there. Of course, everything was closed and the street, which is basically, a pedestrian plaza, was very quiet. Other shops that caught my eye were Phillip Treacy’s store (he is the millionaire milliner) from which he sells the most amazing hats to a very discerning clientele. The ones I glimpsed from the bow windows were just exquisite and I had visions of Ascot and royal weddings as I took in the sight. There is also Peggy Porchen who makes one-of-a-kind cakes and a couple of antiques shops, including Joanna Wood, whose English Country interiors have been my own inspiration for decades. In fact, I was so enchanted by a pair of lamps in the windows that I could have easily made off with them, if the circumstances were right and I was still living in another era of my life!
Sainsbury’s Baked Goods for Brekkie:
It was time to return to Sainsbury’s (which had just opened) from where I picked up a pain au chocolat and an almond croissant. I did not bother getting coffee as I had a bottle of water in my bag. Inside the coach station, I looked for departures from Oxford on the board—only to find none. I then dug out my ticket to find that National Express has commissioned the Oxford Tube to run their passengers to Oxford. Of course, it meant running across the street to find the coaches lined up there and, in a few minutes, to get my preferred seat (upper deck, front and center) and off we went at 7.25 am on a Saturday morning, while the city still slumbered.
I love the journey out of London—down Buckingham Palace Road, on to Wellington Arch and Apsley House, then around the bend to Park Lane with its expanses of green at Green Park and The Dorchester and the grand sculpture and gardens all along Park Lane until we arrive at Marble Arch, make a sharp left to sail down Bayswater Road past Notting Hill and Lancaster Gate Tube stations and then on to Holland Park (which always makes me look for the home of my friends Loulou and Paul) and on to Shepherd’s Bush and the Westgate Shopping Center. I munched my breakfast pastries en route and thought I would sleep once we did the highway (as has happened in the past), but no luck this time around. I feasted my eyes on sheep and brown cows and black horses as the coach ate up the miles and we took the turn to Lewknor and then the Thornhill Park and Ride before we passed through Hillingdon and entered Oxford at St. Clement’s. From this point on, I began to shoot video footage of the city and our approach into it, past Magdalen Tower and the Botanic Garden and onto Queen’s College where the coach makes a stop before turning left at Carfax to get to St. Aldate’s.
Hopping Off on the High:
Oxford was still asleep (or just awaking) when I hopped off the coach at 9.10 am (right on schedule). I caught a glimpse of a woman in a grand sari, her husband in an Indian achkan. Besides them was their son, a graduating student obviously, already wearing his cap and gown in time for the day’s later formalities and festivities. One of my favorite gift stores in Oxford, Babylon, was still closed and I decided to visit it again after an hour. Although I would usually have simply crossed The High and entered Queens Lane to begin my customary favorite walk, this time round, I decided to do something really different.
First Delightful Walk of the Day:
I retraced the steps of the bus and peered down the stone balustrades over Magdalen Bridge to see the calm Cherwell below. Crew members were getting ready for the day and dozens of punts lay slumbering along the banks of the Botanic Garden. I had the opportunity to take several pictures (including a few selfies on a really windy day) and then crossed the High to begin my walk alone Rose Lane, on the opposite side. I whipped out my trusty map and discovered that if I followed the lane that runs alongside the outer wall of the Botanic Garden, I would reach the Cherwell. It was worth exploring. Not another soul was in sight—so for that brief blissful morning, I had the city and its dreaming spires to myself. En route, when the shot caught my eye, I took pictures of the lush summer bounty in the Botanic Garden where spillage tumbles over the wall: I saw early bunches of grapes on a vine, white Morning Glories, clematis in royal purple and a bunch of wild mauve flowers (gilly flowers) all of which I photographed.
Across, on the other side of a wrought iron fence, I saw the Gothic walls of Merton College across Merton Field. In a few minutes, I reached a bend in the Cherwell. It was still too early to spy punts but on the other side, I saw the pavilion of the cricket ground and the emerald-green expanse of the pitch. Following my map, I walked alongside Merton Field until the spire of Christ Church Cathedral came into view. Then followed more spires, more honey-toned Cotswold stone walls and, in a short time, I was parallel to the Broad Walk that would have led me straight to St. Aldate’s. I decided to walk back to the High past Merton College instead. A small gate brought me to Merton Strreet, the beautiful cobbled oldest street in Oxford on which stands Merton College, the oldest college in the Town, dating from the early 1200s. The bells of Merton College were chiming, and I shot some video—highly atmospheric—before I inquired inside the Porter’s Lodge as to whether I could visit the chapel alone. They said I would need to buy a ticket for 5 pounds to see the entire college. I decided against it (perhaps I shall do it someday with Llew as his nephew as a student at Merton, on a Rhodes Scholarship, when he had studied British jurisprudence here, a few years ago).
I crossed from Magpie Lane back on the High after what was one of the most charming walks I have taken. The early dawn light and the rising sun gilding the Cotswold stone, permitted many delightful photographs across the bright green lawns. I also shot chestnut trees that are getting ready to produce their nut-filled cases.
It was a walk that lasted a whole hour and I looked for a place to sit and perhaps get a hot drink when I realized that Babylon, my preferred gift shop, would be open. I browsed inside but did not find anything that called my name. Leaving quickly, I crossed the street and decided to start my second walk of the day.
My Second Walk in Oxford--One of my Favorites:
I have, in past blog posts, provided details of the history of the colleges I pass through on this, my favorite walk in Oxford (so I shall refrain from doing so this time). Suffice it to say that you pass by New College and spy the spires of All Souls College and then the dome of the Radcliff Camera. In the spring, this walk is more enchanting as wisteria cascades down the college walls bringing a punctuation of mauve notes to the grey and honey toned walls as you pass by old-world gas lamps.
At Hereford College, you go under the Bridge of Sighs and there I made a right to get to the Broad. I noticed at once that the crowds had increased considerably in volume (it was almost 10,30 am by this time). The precincts of the Sheldonian Theatre were out-of-bounds as graduation formalities would be going on inside Christopher Wren’s masterpiece of a building, Oxford’s most recognizable (together with the Radcliff Camera--James Gibbs’ masterpiece). Indeed, Oxford in an architectural paradise and if it is not Wren, it is his pupil Nicholas Hawksmoor’s work (as in the Clarendon Building) that catches the eye. It is an endless visual feast and I ate greedily of the offerings.
I saw down on the bench opposite the Weston Library just for a rest and gazed up at the camera in St. Martin’s School—it is the one place I look at every single day when I am in my usual home as there is a 24 hour streaming service offered by this device. Next, I decided to go along to the Oxfam store where I always look for DVDs and other vintage treasures. This time I found The Monuments Men, one of the most mesmerizing of stories for an art lover. I grabbed it for 2 pounds and then sat outside the store for a while in the pavement café area where tables and chairs offered my feet some respite. I found the city simply heaving. Large crowds of students (some looking no older than high schoolers) were out taking guided walks with certified guides (obviously all taking summer school courses at Oxford). I listened to the commentary from some of them and discovered that St. Frideswald, a Medieval saint whose personal story of chastity is closely linked with the city, has a church somewhere close by and that Mr. Bean (Rowan Atkinson) studied Engineering at Trinity College, across the road from where I sat.
By then it was about 12 noon and I had a 12.30 pm lunch appointment with my friend Dr. Fiona Mann who was driving in from Upper Compton (or Lower?) to meet me. I joined the throngs on Cornmarket Lane, popped into Boots to find clip-on sunglasses and then turned the bend at Carfax to enter St. George’s Street before getting to the Westgate Shopping Center. I popped into Jo Malone, spritzed myself to freshen up and then walked along the High to get to Whittard’s to meet my friend Christophe who works there. Alas, I discovered that he left over a year ago and no one knows where he now is. Oh well…
Lunch with My Friend at Vaults and Gardens Café:
On cue, at 12.30, I found myself gazing at the dome of the Radcliff Camera and at the vast crowds posing for pictures along its wrought iron fencing. When I entered the Vaults and Gardens Café that I know well as I have eaten here at various times, over the years, with various friends, my friend Fiona spied me right away. We had an affectionate reunion hug before we found a table and settled down for a right royal natter. It has been exactly 14 months since she took Llew and me in her car to Waddendon Manor, a totally unforgettable experience, in the Aylesbury countryside. This time round, we decided to get lunch (my treat—after all, she had driven a long way to see me) and then sit down for a long catch up.
We went inside the restaurant to order: the menu changes daily and is up on the walls on large blackboards. I ordered a Squash, Celeriac and Coriander Soup (served with sourdough bread and butter) and an Oxford Cheddar and Gruyere Sourdough Rarebit. Fiona ordered the rarebit and a coffee and took our trays outside, found a lovely table at the side and focussed on enjoying our chat and our meal. The afternoon was simply gorgeous, weather-wise, with the cool wind tempered by the warmth of the sun. After we had exchanged family news and talked about our respective current academic projects, that is a good two hours later, we parted company having taken some pictures in Radcliff Square.
Third Walk—This one in Exeter College:
It was just past 2.30 pm when Fiona and I said our goodbyes. It was the perfect time for me to visit my own college, Exeter College, and so off I went down Brasenose Lane, only to realize that the Fellows Garden and the ramparts of the wall that overlooks Radcliff Square, would be completely out of bounds, long-term, as a huge renovation is occurring in the Library of Exeter College.
When I entered the Porter’s Lodge, I discovered that almost the entire college premises were taken over by a wedding party. There was a large white marquee on the main Quad lawns and the Porter informed me that although alumni were permitted to enter, they were requested to stay away from the chapel where the nuptials had just taken place, the dining hall where the luncheon feast would shortly occur (in the marquee, drinks and cocktails were being served) and the Fellows Garden (where full-scale construction had shut down the entire venue). Fortunately, I was able to enter the Margary Quad where my room was located and where I was able to take a few pictures.
Museum Exploration Begins—The Weston Library First:
A little later, I got out of Exeter College and decided to cross the Broad to get to Blackwell’s Book Store where I could rest my feet. I was beginning to feel seriously fatigued by this time and needed a rest. Inside Blackwell’s, I found one of my favorite books on Oxford, It is fully illustrated by George Byfield whose watercolors I simply adore—I own the companion book on ‘London’ and someday I will buy the Oxford book too. Only not on this occasion. I took a picture of Lady Margaret Hall College from the book for my Repatriates Group friend, Deborah, before I left. I had given myself a 45-minute rest and I was ready to leave.
Next door, I found myself in the gift shop of the Weston Library. I browsed around and found a lot of new merchandise. That’s the great thing about these museum stores—they are constantly changing their wares (so there is always a pleasant surprise). The cushion covers and the tote bags based on the Medieval tapestry out in the lobby are fully sold out. I am so glad I had bought the tote bags, a year ago, and fashioned cushions out of them myself. I spied a nice scarf printed with books from the 1940s, but I have too many scarves and could do without it.
I used the facilities at the Weston Library and then decided to take a look at their newest exhibitions. These too are always changing and one can be fascinated by what one finds of the treasures of the collection. There was an exhibition on ‘The Giver and the Gift’ (the gifts being books) that had on display medieval psalters and Bibles and Quorans that were written on scrolls as well as contemporary books. I was already too fatigued to be able to read every curatorial note, but I got a general gist of the show. Had I more time, I know I would have enjoyed it much more. The second exhibition, in the adjoining gallery was entitled ‘Alphabets Live”—a show on the manner in which the alphabet and their letters feature in our lives. I did not give it too much time before I left to make my way to the Ashmolean Museum. It was already 3.30 pm and I would have no more than 90 minutes there.
Visiting the Ashmolean Museum:
On an afternoon that was simply crammed with human beings, St. Giles and particularly the corner where the Ashmolean Museum shares space with the five-star Randolph Hotel, I tried to spy the location of the other webcam that streams 24/7 scenes of real-life in real time on You Tube. I believe I did see it tucked in a window on the first floor. I looked at the crowds crossing the street and decided to get away as quickly as possible. Going through the side street and gate that takes one into the Ashmolean Museum, for the first time, I found myself on the buzzing portico of the Neo-Classical building.
Once inside, I lost little time making my way to the Porcelain Rooms which I always love and where I can spend a whole day. Sadly, I was running out of time and energy and made a direct bee line for the European paintings on the second floor. Of course, I saw Paolo Uccelo’s The Hunt and Pietro di Cosimo’s The Forest Fire (both of which have individual episodes of Morse and Lewis respectively based on them) before I climbed one floor to get to the Pre-Raphaelites and Turner’s View of Oxford. This time round, my eyes were attracted to two wonderful paintings by William Bell Scott (1811-1890), an artist with whose name I am unfamiliar. He has painted two works that sit side-by-side in the Ashmolean: Keats’ Grave and Shelley’s Grave—both in the Protestant Cemetery in Rome where they died within a year of year other (1821 and 1822—my favorite poet Keats first, then his best friend Shelley). Somewhat inexplicably, the cemetery sits right by a Pyramid and both poets, lie in its shadow. They are truly evocative of the Romantic Age and the tragic lives of the poets that gave us some of our best-loved works.
By then, it was 5.00 pm and the museum staff were already bustling us out. I used the facilities in the basement for the last time and then began to think seriously of getting home. I popped into a second-hand bookstore on the way out and then into Five Guys for a coffee and their salted peanuts. Almost an hour later, I decided to see if the conductor on the Oxford Tube would permit me to board early—my ticket said 8.30, but by 6.00 pm, I’d had enough and badly needed a long sit-down. The thought of walking all the way down the High to Queen’s College was daunting until I remembered that I could board the bus at the terminus at Gloucester Green which was less that five minutes away. And that’s what I did. It gave me a chance to look at the Gloucester Green Street Market which was winding down and, in about ten minutes, I was in a coach ready to wend my exhausted way home. I discovered that there is no restriction on when one has return—any time within a three month period is fine. I loved the flexibility and off we went!
En route to London:
I seriously thought I would have a long snooze on the bus; I had a very friendly and talkative companion who happened to be a second year PhD Chemistry student at St. Edmund Hall. His name was Jasper and he told me all about his dissertation and his American girl friend who wishes to specialize in Urulogy. The miles were just eaten up by our conversation and before I knew it, he was getting off at White City heading home to his parents who live at Ealing, not too far from where I had once rented a Victorian flat! In Oxford, he was renting a flat at Norham Gardens where I had once rented a flat! We simply could not get over the coincidence!
Back Home to Battersea:
It was just past 8.15pm when we arrived at Victoria. I ate the second half of my Rarebit on Sourdough in the coach together with a helping of Tiramisu which I had bought from Sainsbury earlier in the day. This meant that I could get home, take a shower and go straight to bed as I was deeply fatigued.
The 44 bus from across the Victoria coach station was not long in coming and I jumped into it and rode the 15 minute journey to Battersea where I got off and walked quickly along Candahar Road to Sarah’s. Inside, I found her at the end of a nice dinner party with two friends, one of whom had a dog named Lola. Sarah asked if I wanted a drink, but I was only keen to get up to my room. Once inside, I sorted through my things, checked my email and whatsapp messages (as I had no connectivity all day), brushed and flossed my teeth and went straight to bed at 10.30 pm.
Until tomorrow…cheerio!
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