My friends,
I write though I am tired and the hour grows late. Early the next morning, Zoë, Diana and myself awoke and made our way to the Oxford city centre once more, this time for a walking tour of the town and colleges. We were apprised of many interesting facts about the university. Did you know that Lawrence of Arabia attended? Neither did I. So did Mr. Bean. And the author, Philip Pullman, though that is understandable, given that his His Dark Materials trilogy is partly set in the universe of an alternate Oxford.
When the tour was complete, Zoe dropped us at the Covered Market, a collection of shops and cafes where we lunched. I had a “jacket potato,” as baked potatoes here are termed. We then proceeded to stroll around. Diana drew many a stare and not a few bemused compliments on her finery—a white tiger hat I purchased for her this past Christmas. One student even asked, from atop his perch of the gate under which we were passing, if he could “give it a stroke.”
The hour for dinner drawing near, Diana and I pointed in the direction of Zoe’s, though not before stopping at the organic ice cream shop D&G’s, where I enjoyed a Bailey’s Irish cream scoop, and Diana a large cookie. The sumptuous spicy smell of curry was wafting through the door as we arrived back at Zoe’s. I must remember to ask her for the recipe, it was so very delicious. Full from dinner and exhausted, Diana went to sleep in the living room; Zoe and I went out strawberry-picking in her patch of the allotment—or community garden—just down the street. Though we were racing the waning daylight, Zoe took me to see the thousands of tiny wriggling tadpoles in a pond on the allotment. A fresh-picked strawberry, sans pesticide: I cannot imagine anything better. As the sun sank behind the trees, we went fox-hunting in the darkening forest on the allotment. It was nearly impossible to see anything by that point, however, as twilight seemed to hang mistily between the branches, and while we heard the sounds of invisible creatures in the black on either side, it might have just been the sounds of our own feet. We did, however, see bats flying crazily above, which was enough for me.
Strawberries and whipped cream with crumbled meringue back at home. Simply marvelous! Also the daughter of an animator, Zoe and I recounted our respective childhoods sat in our parents’ workspaces with a stack of spare animation paper while they drew. Zoe and James both like “The Black Cauldron”--who knew fans of the film existed?
More later.
--A
St. Mary's, where we climbed to the top of the tower for a lovely panoramic view of Oxford the previous day.
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