Revisiting Oxford

This would be our first completely unplanned day of vacation and our last day with a car. Our last night's lodging was in Reading and we were expected back in Reading in the late afternoon. Being a bit indecisive we headed off in one direction, made a small adjustment and after a lovely countryside drive landed in Oxford. Before arriving we knew that the science museum Mike most wanted to see was closed on Monday and today was Monday. Our last trip several years ago was also Monday, not the best planning, but we were sure we could find a day's entertainment.

 

While visiting the Tourist Information Office, Mike found a flyer for a free two-hour walking tour. As free rarely happens on our journeys we grabbed a quick lunch and arrived on time at the gathering spot. Now free is true, almost. The walkers are asked to pay according to their satisfaction with the tour and the guide, although we already knew the deal from the flyer information.

Bridge of Sighs

Our tour guide was a young man with a law degree from Oxford. He was knowledgeable, funny, and dramatic. Not wanting to sit behind a desk he and a friend started the business and have been successful although he does not see it as his lifetime calling. We walked to some places we had previously visited and saw many new sites. The Oxford history lesson was excellent but the best part was the insider's view of the organization and workings of the university.

 

For all the lovers of C. S. Lewis and the Chronicles of Narnia this is THE door. If you look carefully Aslan's face is in the center diamond in the top half of the door. The first thing the children see when they pass through the door is the lamppost in the next photo. Lewis was a fellow at Oxford and used his surroundings for the settings of his famous series.

By now it is four o'clock and we are expected back in the Reading area by late afternoon. Traffic cooperated and we arrived at Sue and Brian's on time. Not only did they provide us with a large, comfortable room, they had planned an evening of entertainment. A cab ferried us out into the country, down a single track road to a cozy restaurant housed in an ancient, at least by Oregon standards, building. It was an excellent meal with an evening of live music played by a duo who called themselves Rag Mama Rag; two sets with him providing vocals and stunning work on an assortment of guitars and a mandolin, and her playing various combinations of washboard, percussion, spoons and harmonicas, including an enormous bass harmonica. Quite a range of music that was difficult to either sit still to, or refrain from foot-tapping or finger-drumming.

 

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