Europe Trip: Oxford to Eyam

On day 4, we were off to Oxford, this time without any mishaps. We stored our bags at a hostel (for a couple of pounds) and set off to steal some free wifi and explore. We released some things from our itenerary, because we needed to relax, and I was mostly okay with that decision. It was a rare, non-rainy day, and there were people everywhere...yet it didn't feel crowded, just enjoyed. We looked at buildings like this one:

(it's Christchurch College) but didn't go in because prices reflect the increased tourist interest due to it's role as Hogwart's in the Harry Potter films. Incidentally, there was a film crew set up to start filming a movie while we were there, but the security guards were tight-lipped about what it was.


We saw more evidence of gruesomely killed Reformers (click to make picture bigger if needed:


And this is the spot where they were burned:

Well-behaved tour participants standing in a semi-circle like Christmas carolers as if they are aware I am photographing them

We passed by kiosks advertising walking tours of one kind and another, and went into a bookstore and bought a Tolkien/Lewis literary walking tour guide for 3 pounds (aren't we savvy?).

As cliche as it seems, my favorite spot was seeing the Eagle and Child Pub (or as C.S. Lewis and his friends called it, the Bird and the Baby). This is where Lewis and Tolkien and some other equally brilliant-yet-less-famous men met weekly (or more) to discuss their writings, new ideas, old ideas, and the like. They called themselves the Inklings. I was reading Lewis' book, Surprised By Joy, while we were traveling, and he speaks often about his good friends and their discussions and his love for meeting at the pub. I wonder if his analogies are so fine-tuned or Tolkien's characters so complex because of the sharpening of their ideas as they talked in the pub.

The "Rabbit Room"--if you click on the picture, you can see a black and white photo of C.S. Lewis on the wall, otherwise, I was surprised at how non-gimmicky it was

I had a little bit of difficulty relaxing because I knew that at the end of our afternoon, we would be beginning the adventurous portion of our trip: renting a car and navigating England's confusing roads and roundabouts on the WRONG side of the road (I know, not wrong, just different, whatever). We got the car and talked Jeremy through the first few left hand turns and roundabouts (they really are EVERYWHERE!) and began to relax. We ventured into the Cotswolds, where everything was just so...perfect! I mean literally, we were wondering if the people there just love to have every square inch of their property look picturesque or if there are strict rules and laws requiring it for the sake of the tourism industry. Probably a mixture of both. Somehow, I didn't really take any pictures, but it is hard to take a picture of the essence of somewhere...somewhere that felt so like the Shire in Middle Earth. I did take some pictures of pretty plants:

We inquired at numerous B&Bs, feeling relaxed and holding out for the lowest price, but as the sun began setting, we felt a little pressure to make a decision. Suddenly, out of a perfectly manicured hedge, a slightly disheveled woman appeared and waved nervously for us to stop. We did, and agreed to give her a ride to a nearby town. On the way, she said she was from a little town that we had been trying to find (these little towns are just a mile or two apart and all have quaint names like Stow-on-the-Wold, Bourton-on-the-Water, and Chipping Camden) and we said, "Oh, great, could you take us there?" She agreed, but then started making excuses for why she was hitchhiking, and slinking down and ducking in her seat and didn't take us there. We put it together afterward, after she made us swear that we wouldn't tell anyone that we had seen her or given her a ride, that she is the local...black sheep. We think she was (often) drunk and couldn't drive but still managed to sneak around by hitchhiking with tourists but was the shame of this small cluster of well-bahaved, perfect little towns. Must kind of stink to be her...she probably needs to get out of the Cotswolds and move to London.

But, after giving her a ride, we stumbled upon our favorite hotel of the trip...the Redesdale Arms in Moreton-in-Marsh. The price was great, the breakfast was amazing, the building historic, and the guy at the desk was a little too tall to be a hobbit, but still looked like a distant cousin of Samwise Gamgee.


Another British-ism:

There's actually a picture of a steaming pile of doggy doo on there

Flagstaff friends can understand our confusion here (click to make bigger to read sign):

In the morning, we went to Blenheim Palace. We really enjoyed it and heard some interesting stories, which I could tell you here, but I think you just need to go there! Winston Churchill spent a lot of time here as a child and there is an exhibit about him. What an interesting and inspiring man...struggled in school, was always late, was rejected from the army 3 times before getting in, saved the free world from the Nazis, and, oh yes, created art that graced the cover of many Hallmark Cards.

Dum...dum dum dum.......dum-dum dudumdum dum...clip clop clip clop

Self-portrait #17

It rained hard most of the afternoon, so we ended up skipping the most castle-y of castles (according to Flower Darby). I'm a little sad about that one still. Next time, next time.

We headed towards our next destination, a random contact that I had made through MOPS International...she is the leader of a MOPS group in a small village in the Peak District called Eyam, and when I inquired about visiting their meeting, she and her husband invited us to stay with them. We didn't know much about them except that he is the vicar of the church, they live in the Rectory, and they are carnivores. That could be really good or really bad.

On the way, the rain stopped for a few minutes, so we took a detour, tried to sneak into a castle, and took a few pictures.

We arrived at the Montgomeries' home (er, The Rectory--that was literally the address..."Eyam, Church Street, The Rectory". Actually, it seemed that most homes in rural England have names, Padmore's Thatch, Cobblestone Cottage, etc. We decided that ours would be Snuggle Den--get it, like snuggled in, but like a den because I live with a bunch of bear cubs. Okay, I might have come up with it on my own but it's CUTE). We found warm and friendly people waiting for us and supper that was still hot. We realized rather quickly that it was going to be really good. And, we had Yorkshire Puddings, which were biscuits made out of pancake batter...or something. Whatever they actually were, they were not what I expected, but they were delicious.

Next Stop: More about Eyam because it was just that good.