Day 8: To Orkney!

The students woke up on time this morning, and they are now off to Headington Campus for a tour and rounds of Oxford City with Peter. My parting comment to them was: "Have fun... and make good decisions." We'll see how long that stays with them.

Mom and I got off the bus at Castle Hill to catch the airline shuttle to Heathrow, my 4th ride this week. We stopped in Harvey's at the station for a morning snack or a sandwich, and instead found what might be the most delicious meal yet! Called a breakfast bap, it was 2 strips of bacon (more like American country ham), a fried egg, tomato (grilled or fresh, I chose fresh), all on a dense wheat roll. Very good! And just a little bit messy, but I didn't mind at all.

Now we're sitting in Heathrow waiting to check our bags, so we can make ourselves comfortable on the other side of security until our flight leaves at 3:10pm. I am officially on vacation! That being said, I need to check my HPU email.

An update to the post above...

And that was the last time the blog was updated on the trip. Some people know that I'm now back at home in NC. Got here last night, dinner at Chili's, picked up the pup, and fell into bed.

Internet access in Orkney was nearly non-existent, except for the Orkney Library, which is only open until 5pm. And the time I did have at the computer was spent checking HPU emails and resolving work-related issues. That's ok though. I had did some fun stuff in Oxford, so it's only fair that I do some work stuff on vacation. I digress.

We arrived in Orkney on time, and I felt like I was flying into someone's backyard. On approach, I noticed that the entire Mainland could be seen from the airplane window. All farmland and stone walls, like a handmade patchwork quilt of greens and browns.

The bus system had stopped running, so we loaded our bags into a taxi bound for the Peedie Hostel. Peedie means small in... uh, Norse? Orkney slang?

It's important to note here that the people of Orkney, Orcadians, don't call themselves Scottish or from Scotland. In fact, there are very view obvious signs that Orkney is a part of Scotland. For centuries they have functioned independent of outside influences, yet heavily dependent on one another, and it seems that they pride themselves on that interdependent independence. Kilts are not the typical garb for Orcardians, and the various tartons are not an Orcadian thing.

We arrived on the Orkney mainland to near-solid gray skies. Not storm clouds or imminent rain, just gray skies. I wondered if it looked like that a lot.

The weather in Oxford

When we first arrived in London and Oxford, the weather was quite warm. Now (at 9:30pm) it's a chilly 13 C, about 50 F. A big change from the warm afternoons of last week. It's about 50 F in Orkney during the day. I have a feeling I'm going to be buying a couple of those wooly sweaters Orkney is known for.

Day 7: Students are here!

My morning began very early, waking at 5am to catch a taxi to the Glouchester Green Bus Station and a 6:40am shuttle into Heathrow. I arrived right at 8am, just when I told the students I would be there. I walked around and didn't see them. Perhaps immigration took longer than the hour I had allotted them. An hour later, nothing. I rode the moving sidewalk over to Terminal 2, thinking maybe Michael would be exiting immigration. No one. Then I made my way back to the Central Bus Station. An hour passed, nothing. And finally, I saw Chelsea pulling her luggage out of the lift and into the station. She looked tired. And it's no wonder, since her flight from Nashville had her leaving at noonish (central time) on Sunday, going through Houston, and landing in London at 7:30am the next morning. Ugh.

I wondered where the others were. They were all flying into the same terminal, and I suspected they were together. I was right. I found them pushing their luggage (and a lot of it) into Terminal 2. It seems the airline list I consulted in London had Virgin Atlantic coming into Terminal 2, same as the bus station. They landed at Terminal 3 instead.

After a cup of coffee and a moment to rest and purchase tickets, we were on our way to Oxford. We switched buses at the High Street stop, right in the middle of the hustle and bustle. A questionable decision on my part since their luggage blocked half of the sidewalk. It only makes sense though, since Margaux had packed everything from pots and pans to food to clothes to you name it! She was well-prepared for the 3.5 months abroad.

On the bus, we met Robert, the Harcourt Hill chaplain, who was kind enough to help us carry and pull bags to the students' residence hall (House 3 on the Harcourt Hill campus). Robert lives in House 1. That makes me feel better about their supervision. Peter also met us at the stop and carried and pulled various bags to House 3. Keys were distributed, ID cards were made, Marshall obtained long-awaited internet access in the 24-hour lab. The day was a success.

Then came the challenge of keeping the students awake until a reasonable evening hour. Peter met with them in the house's dining room, going over some expectations and reassurances. And then I led them into town to familiarize them with the bus system and stall until at least 7pm.

We took the Queen Lane stop and made our way back towards the hub of the area. The students walked up Cornmarket Street with planned stops at Starbucks (coffee), Boots (pharmacy), and Sainbury Local (grocery).

Mom and I walked up Cornmarket to the Waterstone bookstore and then to the left towards Nando's. I have to give a big shout-out to Scott for the Nando's info. He had not yet steered me wrong with restaurant and cafe recommendations, and Nando's was just as good as he said! I had the Prego Steak Wrap with herb & lemon sauce. Mom had a 1/4 Chicken with the mango & lime sauce. She had a side of mashed sweet potato (delish!). My side was garlic bread (also to die for). And we added an extra--grilled halloumi cheese. Incredible! Like fresh buffalo mozz melted and grilled in a salty butter brushing. Yum!

We rejoined the students at 7pm and made our way to the 7:50pm bus at High Street. I stopped at an ATM only to find that Wachovia had once again blocked my ATM card for overseas use. I called for the 5th time in 7 days and nearly $40 in international calls (mostly spent on hold) to try to straighten out the ordeal. I can't understand why their idea of customer service is no better than the crap service I've been getting from them.

Maybe after working at HPU, I have a heightened expectation of what customer service is supposed to be like. Dare I say that HPU has spoiled me for service, and I am now often disappointed by the lack of results from other companies. Indeed, results do rule! And if Wachovia's poor service for overseas travelers continues, the result will be closing my accounts and stuffing my money in my mattress... or maybe a cookie jar. I wonder, which is the least predictable of the two options for potential thieves?

Hmm... something to ponder as I sit in McDonalds at 9:30pm, waiting for the bus to return. I was still on hold (see above) when the bus came to take me and the students back to campus. They headed to bed, and I returned to Scott House, only to discover that I didn't have the 100 pounds required to square my accommodation tab with Harcourt Hill. So I hopped the next bus back to town; the ATM did work (this time). Now I have just short of an hour to kill before catching the return bus at 10:05pm. A McDonalds milkshake is slowly smoothing out my frustrations. And the fact that their free wifi is actually working today is a definite perk.

It's been a long day, but a good one. The students are settled in and on their way to getting their internal clocks recalibrated/reset. We will all see each other one more time tomorrow morning at the bus stop, as they leave with Peter bound for the Headington campus, and Mom and I make our way to Orkney for the rest of the week. With a few days of rest and relaxation ahead of me on an island that is only 15 miles wide, I'm really looking forward to locating that beaten path and being absolutely sure that I stay off of it. Goodbye, city! Nature, here I come!

Oh, and Chris... garlic or very hot? How about both?

Day 6: Preparing for the students...

Sunday was a catch-up-on-sleep day and a finish-up day, seeing everything that I hadn’t gotten to see and do in Oxford before leaving. The students will arrive tomorrow, and I will be busy just trying to keep them awake until a decent time at night. I doubt they will sleep much (or well) on their flights.

They are all scheduled to arrive 7:00-7:30am. That means, in order to meet them, I have to be up to catch a taxi at 6:20am to take me to the Gloucester Green bus station in town so I can catch the 6:40am X70 bus to London. I'll meet the students, help them buy tickets, switch buses with them, and accompany them back to campus where they will settle into their residence hall and explore the city.

Having dinner at Peter's tonight. Peter is our students' host (and mine) during their time in Oxford. He has been incredibly accommodating and a wealth of information about all things Oxford!

An update to the previous post...

Peter was kind enough to enough me (and my mom) to his house for dinner. “To see a typical British household in action,” he said. And I’m so glad that we went.

I wondered if I was dressed well enough, but when I saw his manpris and Nike t-shirt, I breathed a sigh of relief. He and his wife Janet had cooked an incredible meal, along with help from their daughter Sarah (the middle child and younger of 2 daughters). Sarah finished her undergraduate program last spring and is preparing for graduate studies. When we arrived, their son (whose name I would remember if I had typed this a week ago) was playing acoustic guitar like nobody’s business. He was amazing! And of course I was green with envy when he told me he’d only been playing 2 years.

We had a great chat about the differences between standardized testing in the U.S. and in the UK and how the university application process is not centralized in the U.S., thus students have to complete numerous applications to as many different institutions and pay just as many application fees. They thought that was a ridiculous waste of time. And you know, I agree. Flashback to fall semester of 1990, when I couldn’t bear to complete another application (sorry, Tusculum College and Coach Botta) despite the promise of a full academic/athletic scholarship that waited at the other end. I just couldn’t make myself write the answers to those three essay questions.

They asked about our upcoming trip to Orkney and told about the wooly hats that a cousin (or friend) had brought them after a visit to Orkney last year. I was surprised that such incredible places are just a short distance away, yet many people within the UK don’t do much exploring within other parts of the UK. I suppose the same can be said for people who live in our little corner of the world and never visit some of its most beautiful/historic/significant locales.

It was going on 9:00pm before I remembered my 5:30am alarm. Peter drove us back to campus, and we snuggled into our rooms for a good rest (of course, Mom got to sleep longer than me).