This Weekend: Open Days and Outside Oxford.

This week in Oxford, and in Britain Generally, is what is known as Heritage Open Week, meaning that many of the country's otherwise exclusive institutions are opened to public view. A few days ago (before I got a little sick) I was able to make it to what is know as the "Exam Schools," which is the building where matriculating and graduating students write their tests at the beginning and end of terms. To begin attendance or complete one's studies at the University, by the way, is referred to by the Oxford-specific idioms "to be sent up" and "to be sent down" respectively. I'm finding that Oxford is a place full of expressions like these-- phrases which somehow manage to combine casual flippancy with the weight of centuries old tradition. They also often seem to do without proper nouns; greater specificity being obviated by the fact that Oxonian things and places are apparently the only significant ones in the world. Anyway, I digress.

The exam schools seem purpose built to intimidate the students who go there to take their critical tests. Here's a view from inside the courtyard.
When test are being administered, this hall and others like it are filled with rows of desks.
A gentle reminder that the exams are timed--a 6 foot clock.
I visited the Exam Schools on Thursday and on Friday, myself and all the other Shimer students attended a compulsory 'orientation' given by the organization that set us up in our housing over here. It turns out the program is run by some pompous, geriatric, rightwing expatriate American ideologue, who kept us as his captive audience in his stuffy offices most of the day Friday while he namedropped Richard Nixon, praised Maggie Thatcher, and summarized the European mindset as "generally pessimistic and lazy." If I hadn't been ill before, I certainly was after.

I decided on Saturday that some time outside of the city might be a good way to try to reinvigorate my constitution. My flatmates and I headed out to the eastern outskirts of town early in the day to see the former barge of Corpus Christi College on the Cherwell River, which had been converted into a house boat which was been opened up by its owners and inhabitants for Open Days. In Oxford's canals a lot of people live in long, low, and narrow barges. This barge however was much larger and apparently a relic from the days in which each college maintained its own barge to service the many sporting events on the river.

Here's a photo the owner had of their barge among others in their glory days along the river bank. As always, clicking the photo will let you see all the details.

It was hard to get a good photo from the riverbank without falling in, but here's a photo of the exterior of the barge from onboard.

There was hardly anybody there and the owners were happy to give a tour and since the living quarters were essentially one medium-sized room it was a brief one. Here are some pictures.

I think I could handle living there.

We came back into the eastern neighborhood of Cowley for breakfast-for-lunch.

Here are the flatmates: Matt, Kate and Raya.

And here is the food (it was pointed out to me that its weird to take pictures of one's food. Whatever.)

After eating, Matt and Raya came with me to The Regal, an old Art Deco cinema in Cowley that had lain abandoned for a few decades and was in the process of being transformed into a nightclub which was opened up for Open Days so people could see it before all the renovations and eurosleaze dance parties ruin the place. There was all kinds of architectural detail and they even let me into the old projection room. It broke my heart a little to see the place torn up but if I strained and squinted enough I could still smell the popcorn and could almost see an old Powell and Pressburger or early Hitchcock playing up front. Here are some pictures.


The lobby's ceiling.

Some of what remains in the theater

The seats on the ground level were torn out to make room for a dance floor, but they hadn't ruined the balcony yet.

The balcony's ceiling.

The concessions area converted to a bar.


After the the cinema, Matt and Raya were lucky enough to find some good bike's at Cowley's used bike shop. Cowley, I think, is the kind of neighborhood where resale bike shops flourish, as the distinction between 'used' and stolen goods seems ambiguous there, at best. It's the kind of place where you're not sure whether to appreciate the bohemian charm or worry just a little about somebody snagging your wallet. And I guess its where you go if you need to buy an organic Asian fusion burger or pot. It also looks like they have a good indie rock club and some cool thrift shops I need to check out. Anyway, without a bike I had to walk home by myself and after bumming around Cowley a little, I decided to take a detour out around the canals that run just east and north of the flat.

Its so green and quiet on the tow paths along the canals, I love them. Here are some more typical examples of the live-in barges.

This is the Isis bridge, just east of my place.

The canal continues north...

and opens up on Port Meadow, publicly owned land and a flood plain for the Thames. There are allotments here where people can rent tiny plots of land to grow vegetables and stuff and there are publicly owned horses and cattle grazing and generally hanging out. I'm not sure who takes care of them. It's not a farm or anything and all the animals are just kind of wandering around in a state of nature. The Thames is really slow and lazy here and there are lots of people riding bikes and picnicking while their dog run around in the water and chase ducks.

All this stuff is a five minute stroll from my flat and a ten or fifteen minute walk from central Oxford. I love it.

In addition to combining the cosmopolitan with the pastoral, Oxford is also the kind of place where, just when you think it can't get more idyllic or whimsical, it does. Like with hot-air balloons. While I was sitting at the riverside, this guy popped up from behind the trees and floated across the sky.

Anyway this is a long post at the end of a long day. I'm done for now. And I'm feeling better so don't worry.