We had far less driving today, so I slept until 8:30. Dad and Grant went to Stonehenge; Mom and I stayed back. I sat at the breakfast table and watched the rain fall on the street and church.
Mom and I had the brilliant idea to take the bus to Salisbury city centre. It was taking longer than we had anticipated, so we got off when we began to see storefronts. Near our stop was a place called Fisherton Mill. Mom saw it had a cafe and we popped inside. While I ordered our coffee, she went into a bookstore, and we waited until our ride arrived.
A friend of Mom’s friend lives in Hungerford, which is on the way to Oxford. It truly was lovely to have an authentic English experience in their home (tea included). They were so kind and happy to have company. Little Tabitha was so darling in her pink dress and British accent. If you can, please pray for their family. They have no close community for fellowship and are hoping to move to an Anabaptist church in America.
I played (Focus on the Family’s) The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe on the way to Oxford to set the tune. Of course it would be raining on a day in Lewis’s city.
My phone said there was a luggage drop at an Indian restaurant, so dad dropped us there and took the car back. I had downloaded maps, but the Bounce app for luggage was not loaded. I asked the man at the desk and he just used his iPad instead. It felt very nice to only carry my umbrella, but also unnerving to leave my belongings with strangers. As safety precautions; Mom told us to get our passports out, I checked the reviews, and I put an AirTag inside one bag.
We went to Weston library to see if their printing press was working (it wasn’t). So we just got a little bit of soup at the café while we waited on dad. (Grant was exploring the place where Oxford scholars graduate). The nice barista brought us complimentary tea and then we asked him how to get over to the area Lewis lived. He said, “Oh that’s quite far.” (It was only 2 1/2 miles but he recommended taxi or Uber). He also said the phone service in Oxford is always unreliable.
I got a map of Oxford and mapped out a rough draft of our plans.
It’s easy to see that this city is a haven for poets, professors, and dreamers. Every older, well-dressed man I saw brought me to imagine Lewis and Tolkien walking down the streets. I wish Americans would have the style that Europeans do. I’ve seen mostly dress shoes today, Oxfords of course. And I’m willing risk the peril that may befall my toe box with a pair of them.
We climbed up St. Mary’s tower for a wonderful view of the city. I gasped a few times from the height. If you’re familiar with Carolyn Weber’s Surprised by Oxford, it’s where TDH took her for the best view in the city.
Meeting people on these narrow steps was an experience in itself. I got a few too many whiffs of strong perfume.
Inside the church, they were having a choir practice, acoustics were top notch.
When I came out the other door I realized I was in was St. Mary’s passage; where the Narnia door and lamppost are. Grant got a call from dad saying that I left my umbrella inside, (oops) then we told them to come meet us. I twirled around the lamppost until I was dizzy. Sadly, I was not transported by a portal to Narnia.
I saw a sign advertising Europe’s oldest cafe, so what is there to do but stop? It does feel disrespectful to get take away coffee in Europe. My half sweet caramelized banana latte was just like the ones I love to make at home. I asked for a golden kiwi as well. Fiber, you know.
We kept stumbling across passages to gorgeous universities, and going into the ones that were accessible to the public. I felt so like a scholar and wanted to cosplay a potential student for free tours.
After seeing the outside of Magdalen University, where Lewis was a professor; (didn’t have time to go inside, plus it costed ££) we tried to find a taxi stop. I thought it best to use Uber so I popped into a café to get Wi-Fi. The gentleman was so kind to let me use it for free. Literally 30 seconds after ordering the car, it arrived across the street. It was quite the sardine stuffing into the Toyota Corolla. We made it to the Holy Trinity church 20 minutes before closing. Praise God.
Something about sitting in C.S. Lewis’s pew and going to his grave, made him feel so much more human. He was only a man who used the gifts His Maker gave him. And though you and I will probably never be famous, we can take the inspiration to be who we were created to be.
The Kilns, where Jack lived for thirty years, is now inhabited by other professors, and requires pre-booking for a tour. We just settled with a walk outside.
We still didn’t have service here so we walked to another place and got some beverages. I figured out that I needed Wi-Fi and went back inside. The bartender moved from India five years ago to study architecture. He told me how much he loves this city, because it’s less popular than other places in England. My Uber app was being really awful, so I asked him if we could book a taxi. His friend called it for us and it came seven minutes later. I truly don’t know how we’d make it without the everyday angels.
We decided to get off a bit before the train station so we could get supper. We kept checking the menus on the outside walls, until we found the most affordable one. They served best sticky toffee yet. That’s saying something after last night. Sticky toffee is my Turkish Delight.
We asked the kind waiter to order a cab for us. It was only a mile walk to our luggage, but we were quite lazy and had too much pudding.
There’s not much like the feeling of being reunited with one’s earthly goods.
At the station, we once again were befuddled. All I knew was a station in London that we needed to be. Andy, a train station man, helped us at the kiosk. He told us that it was too bloody expensive and got us a group deal. (Just to London Paddington, we had to tap in and out of a different line). It saved us forty pounds. He couldn’t print them, so he signed a paper authorizing our four tickets. We like Andy.
It was a frigid 30 minute wait on the platform. Real feel of 47°, I need thicker coats.
The London rail system is a full work that must be studied and memorized. We thought we had it figured out until we were way past our destination. A drunk lady said I look like a cartoon character. I’ll take it.
At one terminal, we found a helpful man. I took detailed notes, photos and double checked. Yet we were still lost. It’s a miracle that we made it to the correct station. Then Mother couldn’t find her wallet, containing her card to tap out. Grant was far ahead, Dad and Mom back down the corridor, I between. I said so many prayers and texted Deborah about it. A minute later Mom found it where she placed it.
The first gps brought us to the wrong alley. The second time I tried it on a different app, wrong spot. And it was on a prayer that those maps loaded. We found the key, but the buzzer to the apartments was broken. The instructions I had screenshots of had nothing about the buzzer door. After calling the Airbnb manager three times with no answer, I was beginning to dream of using the travel insurance and canceling. But I didn’t have service to do even that. So Dad decided to jump the fence and go around to open the door to the courtyard. What do we have to lose? A bit later he pushed the door open with only a little alarm.
Here I sit after a multi-temperature shower. I loaded the video after connecting to WiFi and there were all the details I needed. Now I know to memorize street names, tattoo the codes into my brain, and download absolutely everything sent from the Airbnb owner.
Today was a dream come true, and I’ll cherish the memories for all of my life. Oxford, I hope to see you again.
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