"Heeeeeyyy Yoooouuuu Baaaaaaaaaa(th)!" (or, "Bath Rugby= Not Rubbish")

Hello, dearest readers!

So I'm firmly re-established in the lovely city of Bath.  It really is nice to be back in my house; however, the walk up the hill with 20 pounds of groceries (weight, not currency) to restock the empty fridge was not something that I had been looking forward to with much pleasure.

On Saturday, the city of Bath was a sea of black and blue (not bruises, colors.  err, actually, maybe bruises too, but not until later in the day).  Bath Rugby, which is Bath's rugby team (bet you wouldn't have guessed that, huh?), had a home game-- and when that happens, half of the residents walk through the city in their black-and-blue-striped rugby jerseys.  Since several of us (myself included) had bought Bath Rugby jerseys a few weeks ago, we looked like real locals-- I had two people come up to me and ask for directions to places within five minutes of walking into the city centre. 

Most exciting of all, we had tickets to the game!  A big group of us met up with Beth and Hadrian (our "student liasons"-- they are enrolled at the local university, and come to hang out with us and get us better acquainted with social life and such), and got pushed along with the current of people heading to the rugby pitch.

(But not, of course, before we could take some fun pictures):

The debate over the proper way to pop one's collar.

Game faces!

(I just think that this picture is hysterical.)

So we got to the pitch, and realized, after walking around for quite some time looking confused, that our tickets were for stands in which one actually stands-- we didn't have seats!  This was a bit disappointing.  However, we discovered that this put us with the intense fans, who were willing to stand for all ninety minutes of the game, and they are the fun ones, so this was fine.  Anyway, we packed in like sardines...and only then did I realize that Hadrian, who was supposed to be explaining the rules of the game to us, was way the heck on the other side of the sardine can.  Woops.

My friends around me proved to have no more knowledge of the game than I did (which is to say, none of us had any knowledge whatsoever), and we were in the process of resigning ourselves to the fact that we would look and sound like stupid Americans in the midst of the super duper cheering section, when we were distracted by the appearance of the team on the pitch:

Why, helllllo.

Looked like we would be resigning ourselves to be stupid Americans who would also be oogling the rugby players for the entirety of the game.  Since none of us really knew what was going on, we spent a good deal of time deciding which player was our favorite.... based on fitness, of course.

(I should probably take a moment to note that "fit" in England means something slightly different than it does in America--it's more like saying that someone is "hot," not necessarily physically in shape, though both of these qualities might be encompassed in that particular individual.  Or, in this case, two full teams of rugby players.)

This guy was my favorite, even though he was on the other team.  I have a good reason though-- his last name is Cohen.  A Jewish rugby player?!  How could he not be my favorite?  (Also, he's pretty.)

Anyway, the game is going on, and we don't really know what's happening.  I made a valiant effort to figure out the rules, and by the end, I at least had a general idea of how points were scored and stuff.  Mostly though, we just cheered when everyone else did and booed when everyone else did, and watched the scoreboard (and the men).  

Despite having missed much of the game's nuances, I will try to provide you with at least my account of how the game went:

1.  It started out with the cutest little team of rugby players in the world waving flags while Bath Rugby ran onto the pitch.

2.  Rugby is to American football as whisky is to chocolate milk.  This sport is played with no pads, and considerably more tackling occurs, and the rules are much more complicated.  The Brits call American football a "sissy sport," and I'm pretty sure they're right.  Injuries are attended to on the field whilst the ball is still in play, and the players hop back up after an injury that would have sent a football player off the field for the rest of the game, and keep playing.  It's insane.

3.  Interestingly enough, for such a violent game, there is an awful lot of civility on the part of both the players and fans.  During what is the equivalent of a penalty kick or field goal attempt, the crowd is silent.  After everyone piles on top of each other in a tackle, they help each other up.  Cheers are relatively tame, and occur with little frequency.  Hardly any heckling occurs (the worst I heard was a chap yelling, "Tackle 'im!  Tackle 'im!  Tear 'im apart!", and that only happened once).  

4.  Speaking of cheers.... the best cheer-er in the whole stadium, as far as I'm concerned, was the five year old boy behind us, who yelled more than anyone else around us, and was adorable-- yelling "Come on, Baaaahth!" in his little British five year old accent.  Also, we had a lot of difficulty joining in the cheering, because the usual difference in pronunciation of the "a" in "Bath" is exaggerated dramatically when the word is held out for a longer period of time, as it is in a cheer.... so we sounded stupid yelling, "Come on Bath!" when everyone else was yelling "Come on Baaahth!".  It was a problem.  

4(a).  British cheers are strange.  The only things we heard that were repeated or chanted in unison were:

-"Heeeyyyyy yooooouuuu, Baaaaaahhhh" (which we later discovered was supposed to be "Bath," not "Bah", but that's what it sounded like).  This was a positive cheer.

-"Rubbish!  Total rubbish, ref!"  This was a negative cheer.  We spent much of the day simply yelling "rubbish!" whenever something was not to our liking.

5.  This is a scrum:

5(a).  This is a big pile of limbs:

- I have yet to figure out the difference.

Anyway, we all had a jolly good time.  We intend to come back again (and next time, we'll read up on the rules beforehand).  After all, we have to get our money's worth out of the jerseys we bought!  Also, and probably more importantly, Bath Rugby won-- 31 to 16.  Take that, Sale Sharks!  Hah. 

After the game, a few of us went out with Beth and Hadrian to a milkshake shop that we didn't know existed-- but we are very glad that we know about it now!  They had approximately eighty bajillion things that you could put in a milkshake (and you could even order your milkshake hot, which was terribly confusing for my poor little brain, but made lots of sense to my tastebuds when they got to try Clay's).  I had a delicious milkshake made with Terry's Orange Chocolate (you know, the chocolate that is shaped like an orange and you can peel apart the little sections) and Jaffa cakes (British cookies with orange jelly and chocolate on top), and I couldn't have been happier with my life at that moment.

Other than that, the evening was relatively uninteresting.  Much sitting around and talking while procrastinating beginning homework occurred.  

Today, after reading a huge chunk of Mansfield Park (which I'm actually disliking more upon second reading-- sorry, Jane Austen), I spent six hours preparing dinner (this included the super fun grocery trip that involved dragging my provisions up the hill of doom).  My absolutely amazing dinner consisted of:

-Cornflake-breaded chicken fingers.

-Green beans.

-Homemade mac and cheese.

-Apple pie.

(I must be missing American food or something)

It was delicious.  And I made so much food that Clay and Ali and I will have leftovers for the better part of a week.  Great success.

And.... now I'm off to bed.  Back in Bath, back to work-- I forget that I actually have homework to do here sometimes!  Goodnight, dear readers; I leave you with this picture, so that you can meditate on the concept of "fitness":

The Duke and Duchess of Marlborough Cordially Invite You...

...to take a tour around their modest country estate, Blenheim Palace.

Oh hi.

 So we left Oxford this morning after breakfast (I went back to the market-- ironically, to Brown's!), and drove about 45 minutes to Blenheim.  It was cold and windy and drizzly, and I was not properly prepared for the weather, but the palace was still very splendid.  We had a one hour tour of the inside (where I couldn't take pictures), and I learned all sorts of lovely things.  For instance, the land was given to the first Duke of Marlborough by Queen Anne after he won several important battles in the War of Spanish Succession, then the palace was built over the next 28 years, in the midst of many battles between the Duchess and the architect in charge.  It has the most splendid ceilings that I have ever seen, and many beautiful portraits of the Spencer and Churchill families (the two who have held this title).  Oh, and yes-- that includes the ancestors of Sir Winston Churchill-- he was actually born in Blenheim Palace.  Also, the palace has one of the largest private libraries in the country (maybe also Europe), which has an enormous organ in it (just for fun). Finally, the current Duke of Marlborough (#11), still resides in the palace-- and we saw his helicopter land on the perfect grass!

We then spent three hours eating lunch and wandering around the palace grounds.  There were some lovely gardens (with nice copies of famous statues, like the Venus de Milo):

And we found the Secret Garden (though I don't know if it really counts as secret if there's a sign pointing to it):

And a lovely rose garden:

And a waterfall!

And that's about it.  It was enormous, and gorgeous... but kind of like all palaces.  So it was kind of nice to finally get moving once our time was up.  

We drove another two hours home to Bath, then had a grand time trying to get our suitcases up the hill to our house.  After unpacking, Clay and I ran to the grocery store to get something to eat for tonight (we made pasta with vegges and chicken), then settled in for a quiet night with a movie.  

It's nice to be back in Bath-- though I will miss Oxford quite a bit (but I'll go back to visit)! 

A Farewell to the City of Dreaming Spires

"Dear, dear Oxford!" I cried, as I wandered alone before the college, on the last evening of my being there; "when shall I cease to regret you!--when learn to feel a home elsewhere!--Oh, noble halls, could you know what I suffer in now viewing you from this spot, from whence perhaps I may view you no more!--And you, ye well-loved trees!--but you will continue the same.--No leaf will decay because I am removed, nor any branch become motionless although I can observe you no longer!--No; you will continue the same; unconscious of the pleasure or the regret you will occasion, and insensible of any change in those who walk under your shade!--But who will remain to enjoy you?"

(If you can figure out where this passage, which I have amended only slightly, comes from, dear reader, you will win a Univ hat!  Be the first to comment with the answer, and you will receive the lovely navy-blue knit hat with the Univ crest on it as soon as I return from England!)

If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm in love with Oxford.  And six days is not NEARLY enough time here.  I think I'll be coming back one weekend.  But yeah... I really really don't want to leave.  :(

On a happier note, let's talk about Wednesday and today.  Wednesday, I failed to get up for Buttery breakfast again, but had philosophy nice and early, so I had to get up anyway.  After philosophy, Kate and I went to Blackwell's (the epic bookstore) and spent at least an hour there (probably more).  I managed to stop myself from buying the entire store, but I did still get The Oxford Handbook of English Literature and Theology (how could I possibly resist?  though I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to get it home...it's kinda huge), as well as really pretty gilt-edged copies of The Picture of Dorian Gray and Mrs. Dalloway.  Then we went to lunch at The Eagle and Child, the pub where C.S. Lewis and Tolkien used to meet, and we talked about philosophy (I finally fulfilled my need to have an intellectual conversation in a pub!).  It was a really cool old pub, and had lots of amusing artifacts hanging around, like this one:

A bit later in the afternoon, we met up for a group tour of Christ Church College (which I had been to before for services, but hadn't seen the rest of the college).

This is the Harry Potter Staircase-- it's used in one (or several?) of the movies.

The Great Hall-- also used in Harry Potter (but minus the levitating plates of food).

Inside Christ Church Cathedral.

Bad Kate!

Bad Heron!  (Yeah, the security guard actually chased it away.)

Being nonchalant.

 Being non-nonchalant.

After Christ Church, I went back and attempted to do work (it's incredible that in such an academic place, where you are inspired to have brilliant conversations and think about life in profound ways, it is almost impossible to focus on doing your homework).  Then we decided to head out to dinner, and picked up a few people along the way.  We went to The Bear, Oxford's smallest pub (and one of the oldest), and had a lovely dinner, complete with wine.  But then we decided that we hadn't had enough to eat yet, and figured that going out for ice cream would solve this problem.  

So we went out for ice cream (this seems to be becoming a theme...).  Kate Six and I ordered brownie sundaes, which simply looked to good to resist.  But they were huge, and this caused a problem for us:

Before.

After.

Once we had recovered from our food comas a little bit, we headed back to Univ with the intention of all doing work together in Kate Six's enormous room, but this devolved into playing games and being goofballs.  Needless to say, I was up very late trying to get my homework done.

By some miracle, I managed to get up on time for breakfast this morning though!  After breakfast, we went to the Natural History Museum and the attached Pitt Rivers Museum of Anthropology, which made the five year old child in me ridiculously happy.

The famous stuffed dodo which inspired Lewis Caroll.

 SHARP TOOTH!

 Evolution on parade.  (See the giraffe in the back?!)

Whoa.

The expression on the little primate's face was simply too funny not to share.

 The Pitt Rivers Museum: An exhibition of the historical British custom of sauntering into a society and simply taking things that they thought were cool.  And boy were they good at it-- there were hundreds of thousands of fascinating artifacts from all over the world (including shrunken heads!).

 These things moved when you walked by, and jingled, holding out their hands to request a donation.  When you put a coin in, they bowed.  The explanatory plaque read: 

"The Anthropologist's Fund Raising Ritual."

After the museum, I set off on my own to take a quick look at the Bodelian Library (the ginormous one that has every British copyrighted book and an incredible selection of medieval manuscripts), but of course, I couldn't get in unless I took a tour, and they were all booked for the day (get it? booked?  hahaha... oh.  sorry.  horrid pun).  But anyway, to give you an idea:

It is hugemongous.

 And very pretty.

I spent the rest of the morning shopping (and really didn't buy anything, which is kind of sad), and then went to the King's Arms Pub for lunch with two friends that I ran into (I have been to more pubs in Oxford than I have in Bath).  Then we all went shopping for a little bit-- I bought a fantastic headpiece for the formal, and a vintage pearl necklace, and a requisite Oxford University shirt.  And then I had class, which was kinda boring... but then...

I SHAVED CLAY'S HEAD.

I should probably explain.  Clay's hair was on the long-ish side (or so he tells me-- I thought it looked fine).  He wanted to do something radically different for the formal so as to shock and awe everyone when he showed up.  So, he entrusted me with his secret plan of shaving his head so that he had very very very short hair-- and my job was to meet him in his room and actually do the shaving.  I was terrified, because I was sure that I would mess up, but it wound up being kind of fun.  

Then I ran home and got dressed, and met up with Clay before we headed over to the Hall-- we decided to be dates, because we matched, and were both wearing bold outfits, and because we're just that cool.  So we made a grand entrance, arm in arm-- he with his super short hair, three-piece suit, and hot pink tie with matching pocket handkerchief (he looked gorgeous), and me with my little black dress with a deep v-neck, complete with a long string of pearls and a fantastic black-and-white-fascinator-shaped-like-a-huge-flower-with-feathers-coming-out-of-the-center on my head.  We looked smart.  And we had everyone's attention (and got lots of compliments).  It was awesome.

And dinner was incredible.  Tablecloths, candelabras, a Head Table, three different forks (I was appointed official teacher-of-all-things-etiquette, so I showed everyone how to eat their food properly), menus, a Latin benediction at the beginning of the meal, tuxedoed waitstaff, two kinds of wine, mints that were printed with the Univ crest, and really delicious food (particularly the dessert)-- it was super posh, and absolutely wonderful.  Oh, and did I mention that we were eating in here?

Kate Six, Clay and I, sitting at the Head Table (after dinner).

 

Ali, Clay, and I.

In case you couldn't see the epic hairpiece in the other picture.

After dinner, the Master of the College gave a hysterically funny "lecture" on the only Univ alum who ever composed anything worthwhile-- telling us all about his life as the son of an American father and a British mother, who felt closer to his American side, and went across the ocean.  Apparently, he was not heard from until one day where he was found wandering about the countryside in search of a place to eat a picnic lunch by a company of soldiers (under the direction of some bloke called "Custer"), and then traveled with them briefly, until they had the unfortunate luck of running into a large group of very unfriendly natives.  The Univ alum's remains were found next to the ruins of a picnic basket, and DNA testing showed that the dirt that his hand was tightly closed around was the remains of a slightly limp cucumber sandwich.

It took us a while to figure out that he was actually kidding.  Pretty much everyone got it when he mentioned the cucumber sandwich.

Anyway, he proceeded to play us the final song that this chap wrote on his guitar.  He is a very good classical guitarist, and he began to play this lovely melody, which we slowly began to realize was a composite of various American and British folk songs, carefully intertwined and elaborated so as not to be immediately recognizable.  It was a brilliant, hysterical performance which we all enjoyed very much.

Afterwards, we headed to the college bar to hang out with our tutors and each other.  I had a lovely chat with my philosophy professor while we watched a few people playing pool (and I found out that he likes Star Trek, but sadly, only after our conversation-- I heard him quote the new movie in a very subtle fashion, and I got really excited about it).  It was nice-- very laid back.  Also, Jonathan, the programme director who looks like Hugh Grant, complimented me on my headwear.  I was most pleased.  And I also got to watch him playing pool, which was also most pleasing.

After leaving the bar, my friends and I stood outside talking for a little while.  At one point, my friend Rachel stumbled (she was wearing heels) just as the Porter was walking behind her (the same porter of ice cream vs. alcohol fame).  He caught her, much to her surprise-- she didn't know that he was walking behind her)-- and in response to her shocked expression, non-challantly said, "I just seem to have that effect on women," set her back on her feet, and walked away.  I've decided that the Porter is now my favorite person in the whole world.

Side note-- the strangest looking bug just landed on my screen.  I have never seen anything like it before-- it's actually really cool-looking.  However, it is still a bug, and thus I am creeped out, but I can't get it off of my screen.  This makes me uncomfortable.  

Sadly though, all that is left of my time in Oxford is packing and breakfast.  I'm hoping to get up early enough to go out for breakfast at a tea place that I've been trying to get to; otherwise, I'll simply have to wait until I return to Oxford (which I certainly intend to do).   

Anyway, it's really late, and I still need to pack.  We're off to Blenheim Castle tomorrow, so I should have lots to report next time I write; however, I shall no longer be writing from within the hallowed halls of Univ-- I hope you will not be disappointed (though I most certainly will be).  

So long!  Farewell!  Auf wiedersehen, adeiu!

(But before I go, enjoy this lovely bit of exhibit from the Natural History Museum):