Day 21 - where's memory lane in the A to Z?

Happy birthday Malen.

Awoke to quite possibly the best breakfast we have encountered thus far - the usual suspects (bacon, egg, tomato, sausage, mushrooms, juice, cereal, toast and tea), but with a definite improvement - hard to define exactly how, but somehow nicer. The juice was easy - freshly squeezed. The bacon almost as easy - slightly smoked; but the rest not quite as easy to put one's finger on. Perhaps it was the rustic surroundings, or the willow patterned dinner set, or perhaps even the subdued classical radio programme being played in the kitchen as opposed to the latest nonsensical top 100 downloads interrupting the inane commentary from Jackie, Graham, Bob, Bingo and Portia, all vying to outdo each other for loudness and sheer drivel. Or perhaps it was a happy combination of all of the above.

And when I say awoke, I mean awoke after possibly the best night's sleep we have had so far - even the kids commented on it - lovely warm beds which one sinks into and surrounded by a ridiculously snuggly (!!!) quilt - bliss.

Drove into Oxford, and passed a road which I recognised was where some old friends of my father lived, John and Jeanne Lynam - John having taught at the Dragon school at the same time as Dad, and had remained there for 37 years. Back-tracked on a whim (still going with yesterday's theme), but no-one home, so, with the wonders of modern technology, left a message on their answering service. [Note to dad - there is now a 0 (zero) in front of all U.K. telephone numbers]. Drove a bit further on to the aforementioned school, and, incidentally, where I spent the first four years of my life. Stood outside 3 Charlbury Road (one of the school's boarding houses, which was also our home) and Julianne was just about to take a photo when she paused to let a lady pass by. Julianne made some comment to her about revisiting childhood places, and it turns out she was the widow of a former master from the school - after dad's time, but she knew a lot of the people I have heard of and had even met in the past - a delightful coincidence. Also spoke with some sadness at  what she saw as the decline in the art and humanity of teaching and education generally - saw education at the school (as perhaps it was elsewhere) as being more like a business, designed to attract as many high-paying Russian oligarchs to send their children there as possible - akin perhaps to health care in some respects. Walked around the outside of the school, and evoked no memories whatsoever, but still nice to see, and it gave the kids some sort of context.

Decided that driving into Oxford was probably a silly idea, and, when we caught up with John and Jeanne later on the afternoon they confirmed this wholeheartedly. Park & Ride certainly seems to be the way to go in busy towns - more convenient and much cheaper.

Wandered around for a few hours, trying to avoid bumping in to all the other tourists trying to spot what an Oxford undergraduate looks like - sadly, none to be seen - this week has been the start of the academic year, so they are probably all too studious to be out carousing and entertaining the crowds with merry japes and jolly pranks. Either that, or they are all cleverly and cunningly disguised as tourists trying to look like they are trying to avoid bumping into...... Went into Magdalen college, partly because it is often considered one of the more architecturally appealing colleges, but also because it was the only one we passed which was open for tourists to wander through - capitalising perhaps on its very attractiveness by charging us £14 for the privilege. Still well worth it though, and what was particularly enjoyable was the peace and quiet compared to the hubbub only metres (or rather yards - when in Rome...) away out on the footpaths. And apparently none of any of the Harry Potter films were filmed here, even though parts of Hogwarts are very reminiscent of parts of some of Oxford's colleges, especially Magdalen, although they (the colleges) were apparently used as models for inspiration.

Had already been rung back by Jeanne who very kindly had offered for us to visit later in the afternoon, even though it was such short notice. Spent a lovely couple of hours with them, although we had made the mistake of, when being offered 'tea', assuming that this meant 'a cup of tea' - subsequently sat down, not to 'tea' as in dinner in the Australian sense, but not too far short of it - cakes, scones, chocolates and even mini sausage rolls. Certainly more than we were expecting, but lovely nevertheless, and meant that we did not have to order much for dinner or supper or whatever it is called when we made pubfall (the act or an instance of sighting or reaching a pub after a voyage or journey, and taking on a greater sense of urgency when the children in the rear of the vessel or car have begun the evening ritual of squabbling in order to gain the attention of the occupants at the front of the vessel or car).