Day 5: Dover: Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Well, it wasn't easy, but we did it. And I'm so glad we did!

To get to Dover from Oxford, we woke up early and caught the first Brookes bus into town. We got off at the stop just across from the train station. We booked a return train (meaning round-trip) from Oxford to Dover. That meant 1 hour on the train into London, the tube from Paddington Station to Charing Cross, the 1.5-hour train from Charing Cross to Dover. And then back. Whew!

Prince Albert isn't in a can... he's in Dover! At a pub, of course!

We could have hired a car, but I was a little nervous about driving in town. Highways, I have down, but since there are more than 2 roads in England, even highway driving would be much more complicated than driving on the North Island of New Zealand.

Having (almost) completely figured out the Tube system, it was a piece of cake! We arrived just after noon in Dover. On the way out of the train station, we passed a food stand and stopped for lunch. Since toast was all we chose to eat before we left, it was a welcome sight, even if the fish and chips were frozen and out of a bag.

Instead of going directly to the Western Docks, we walked away from the water about 1 block to the tourist information office, and by complete accident found the hub of the town. A 10-block pedestrian walk from the tourist office (near the ruins of St. Edmund's), past the Bronze Age boat and the Roman House ruins, all the way to the 20' x 40' jumbo-tron in the middle of the square where the day's football (soccer) matches were showing. Talk about a blending of time and space!

We cut our window-shopping short and headed for the Western Docks just in time to catch the next boat tour going out into the harbor. The harbor is housed behind a lock system to prevent the boats from running aground during low tide.

We were fortunate in that our fellow passengers consisted of a talkative British couple with their grandson Kye, who drove the boat. My nephew would have jumped at the chance, but Kye was very unsure of himself when given the opportunity. With a little prodding and encouragement, he slowly crept into the wheelhouse and took the reins.



 

After the boat returned to the docks, our captain drove us in a shuttlebus to the top of the hill where Dover Castle stood.

I know I can't repeat the history accurately in the blod, without many references and some audiovisuals, so instead, I'll say that I don't know of any other structure that has withstood the damage of time and neglect (built in the 1170s and 1180s) and served so many uses over such a long period of time. These uses include its original purpose as home of Henry II, ___, ___, hiding townspeople in the underground tunnels during the first and last bombings during World War II, evacuating Allied soldiers following the German invasion into Dunkirk, and serving as a back-up government for all of England, should London be blown away by a nuclear blast. Most recently, St. Mary the Virgin Church inside the Castle's grounds served as the location for a wedding. We watched from the rooftop of the Castle.

The view of France from the Dover cliffs:

The trip back took much longer than the trip to there, with more than a dozen stops instead of the 2 or 3 on the way to Dover. We got back just after midnight, and finally settled down just in time to catch my nephew, bro, and sis-in-law at home and hear that UT lost to UCLA.

We saw some ugly Americans while we were in Dover. No wonder they don't like us as a people in general. This pair, the woman in particular, were so obnoxious that even Mom and I were trying to distance ourselves from them. No need in someone thinking that we were traveling together. And then of course, they showed up in the train station, but thank goodness were traveling through another location in London.

And, we met an ugly Brit. A drunken ugly Brit at that. He couldn't decide which he hated more--the damn Yanks or the damn Paki's. An interesting perspective on world peace. My biggest laugh came when he asked Mom a question, and she answered in the most country-fried American accent I've ever heard. He didn't catch on.

Day 4: Oxford Brookes University!

I'm going to save this one for later. Time and computer battery are running low.

Ok, the easiest way to talk about Oxford is in photos, so here ya go:

Day 3: Oxford is beautiful and very old!

Where do I even begin! So much has happened since then!

We took the bus from the hotel to Heathrow's Terminal 2 where the Central Bus Station is located, bought our tickets for Oxford, and immediately boarded the bus that was getting ready to leave. About 80 minutes later, we were in Oxford, wondering how to get to Harcourt Hill. I remembered that we needed to switch to the local bus system to get there, but I had no idea where it was on a map.

We exited the bus at Headington Hill campus of Oxford Brookes, which is their main campus out of three. The third is Wheatley on the west end of town. The bus took us through downtown, turning on St. Agdate Street to Castle Road to New Road to Queen Street and turning left up the hill to Harcourt. If I didn't say it, only Chris and Elizabeth Ann would know that we got off the bus one stop too soon, and that the next driver who picked us up had to choke back a laugh. However, I must uphold the integrity of the blog, telling the bad with the good. (FYI: Today/Day 6 was really good!)

After arriving at Harcourt, I couldn't help but notice how secluded it was, far removed from the hustle and bustle of town, but yet not that far away. We picked up our keys to Scott House, met Peter (my host for the weekend), and got settled in. Peter set me up on his email account, but that was short-lasted since I wasn't able to return later to respond to emails for hours like I usually do on these trips. Plus we were starving! We would later learn that the best food in Oxford was at the bus station. We ate lunch in the Harcourt Hill refrectory.

We made our way downtown on the Brookes Bus, walked around the streets of downtown, saw the churches, schools of Oxford, etc., for at least 4 hours. I stayed on the phone with Wachovia for more than 45 minutes while they argued with each other about why I couldn't use my ATM card abroad. It wouldn't be until 20 minutes on the phone the following day that it would finally be resolved. And then again 2 days later when it stopped working.

We got back to campus just after dark and immediately fell asleep. And that was our easy day to recover from London the day before!

Day 2: A FULL day in London and... We're still alive!

Ok, so people got jokes! Here is what this post should have said...

After a much-needed sleep, we woke up and made our way by bus to the Tube station at Hatton Cross on the Piccadilly Line. Thinking it wouldn't take long to get into the city, we opted to stand, a poor choice that we wouldn't fully realize for several more hours.

Our first stop was Hyde Park, the closest stop to Buckingham Palace. After coming out of the Tube station, we immediately saw a modern art display in honor of the long-standing relationship between Great Britain and New Zealand. One post commemorated the departure of the British Colonials, who would later return as the incredibly successful New Zealand All-Blacks (rugby). I couldn't resist shedding my shoe and sock for a koru photo.

Then we made our way down the Princess Diana Memorial Walk to Buckingham Palace. Pictures taken, sat at the Queen Victoria Memorial fountain, saw the guards. Yeah, yeah, yeah. It wasn't really what I was looking forward to, but it's on the list of things you have to do as a first-time London visitor.

 

The highlight was these crazy German dudes (I'm convinced that most crazy dudes I find in other countries are German):

We walked a few more blocks before realizing that we hadn't eaten lunch, so we stopped at one of the MANY Pret a Manger cafes for such healthy, organic sustenance. Odd that my first meal in England was entirely Italian, complete with buffalo mozzarella and proscuitto. (I miss Florence!) We sat at the fountain at Trafalgar Square for about 30 seconds, long enough for the wind to blow and get us (me) wet, so we retreated to the steps in front of the National Gallery.

 

And oh, the people-watching commenced!! People climbing on top of the four lions around Nelson's Column,

something I would never do...

And the next must-see? Piccadilly Circus! We got more than we bargained for. Evidently, England had a FIFA World Cup qualifying game to play tonight, and the entire country of Croatia was in town for the soccer/football. There are no words, only images...

and singing... and video...

OK, I'LL UPLOAD LATER, BUT YOU GOTTA SEE/HEAR IT!!

From the way they were partying, we wondered if they had beaten England the night before. Then their singing included what would be the only English words: "Hey, England. We're sorry for tonight." Too bad the team wasn't able to make good on their promise with Croatia losing to England 5-1, allowing England into the finals in South Africa next summer. As Mom pointed out, they're probably too drunk to care by now.

After Piccadilly Circus, we backtracked to the National Gallery and went in. I hope my friend Scott (and my high school art history teacher Carla Thomas) is proud. I'm so glad we didn't pass up the opportunity to see Rembrandt's self-portraits at age 34 and 63, Di Vinci's The Leonardo Cartoon, Van Gogh's Sunflowers, Seurat's Bathers at Asnieres, Monet's Lilypond Bridge____, and a number of pieces from Cezanne, Botticelli, Michelangelo, Raphael, Van Dyck, Rubens, and others. It's not the Uffici, but I'm so glad we stopped.

Leaving Trafalgar Square, we walked up Whitehall to Big Ben and Parliament. I couldn't help but remember the immortal words of Clark W. Griswald as he was stuck in the round-about: "Hey kids...there's Parliament, Big Ben." And hours later: "Kids...Parliament, Big Ben." We were fortunate enough NOT to see the poor bicyclist he repeatedly ran over with the rental car. I'm interpreting that as a good prophecy for our upcoming car hire.

We walked across River Thames, and I asked Mom a foreboding question: "How are you feeling? Do you want to walk some more?" After a cheerful response, we were off the 2 miles or so to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. (Passed Nando's on the way!) Unfortunately, tonight's show was already at full house (sold out).

We sat down, checked our map, and started walking towards Tower Bridge with plans to eat at M Manze, said to be London's oldest pie shop, established in 1902, with marble-topped tables and worn wooden benches. Along the way, we passed the Clink Prison Museum, famous for its medieval torture (Look! Turkey tracks!);

the Golden Hinde, Sir Francis Drake's 16th Century galleon;

Southwark Cathedral, the oldest gothic church in London (606 A.D.);

Westchester Palace from the 12th Century;

London Bridge; a Krispy Kreme shop (smelled it before we saw it); a familiar name;

and then Tower Bridge!

After way too many blocks, Mom and I agreed that we should eat somewhere else (translation: she pooped out). We decided to eat at Pommeler's Pub, a J. D. Wetherspoon Free House, in the shadows of Tower Bridge. She had cod fish and chips with peas. I had Beef and Abbot Ale pie with mash and veggies.

With our feet rested and our tummies full, we walked across Tower Bridge in search of a Tube station. Thank goodness we didn't have to stand long. I don't think Mom (or I) would have made it! Then a quick hop on the bus, and we were standing in front of our hotel. Unfortunately, on the other side of a tall fence in the median from our hotel. A little strategic planning and a lot of squeezing and grunting, and we were through! Showers, electrical equipment charging, and now we're off to bed.
 

Just kidding. I didn't sleep in the bath tub, but I could have. It was huge! Tomorrow will be an easier day... I hope.