Oxford, England

       I've only been in England for three days now and could be perfectly content never leaving. Oxford is the most magical place I've ever been. The architecture is breath taking and the pictures could never do it justice. The afternoons vary around 65 degrees and the evenings are chilly, my favorite kind of weather. It's like fall in August but everything is so green and the flowers and gardens are in full bloom.
      My first two days of traveling were a blur and almost disaster. I got to the airport surprisingly early around 4 a.m. and was sitting down enjoying my breakfast when I realized my plane should have already been boarding. I kept refreshing my kayak app on my cellphone, which I always use for traveling, but it turned out that it was giving me the wrong gate. I had about 10 minutes left until take off and sprinted across DFW only to miss it by seconds, resulting in missing my connecting flight as well. Imagine the ugliest crying/ hyperventilating you have ever seen. Luckily it all worked out, and I spent the whole day at the Chicago airport admiring everyone's fashion sense, and promising myself I would never wear work out clothes to the airport again. I later settled into my seat on my over night flight to London next to what seemed like a very nice Danish guy. Not so great when he later asked me if I wanted to lean on him for a nap... what? I was too excited to get any sleep so I read a Lake Como book and learned how to really appreciate a neck pillow. Heathrow is the night mare of all airports and their customs regulators will be ingrained in my memory, haunting me as the most terrifying humans alive. I was held for questioning for 30 minutes and could hear my heart pounding through my ears... After going through my printed paperwork that they retrieved (without asking) from my backpack, and went through everything on my cellphone, I guess they were comfortable that I wasn't a terrorist and let me through. I have never felt so sleep deprived or zombie-like before but once I made it to Oxford, where I stayed with my friend Joey for the weekend, everything was worth it.
      After meeting Joey at the bus stop, we went to go get my first traditional tea and scones. We cycled all around the town, where I quickly learned, it's not only terrifying that people drive on the opposite side of the road, but we ride right along with traffic. I also see though why people are in such better shape here. There are gorgeous canals where giant swans make their home along with vintage house boats and fisherman. Enormous trees line the streets and bike paths which lead you to vast green meadows with wild flowers and cows. I've also already grown accustomed to hot English tea in the Samuelson families back yard several times a day.
      Joey and his sister Liz took me "punting", a water sport similar looking to a large canoe where one person stands on the end with a large pole and pushes off the bottom of the canal to move forward. Apparently this is a long time rivalry where Oxford starts at one end and Cambridge from the other. Fellow punters were enjoying wine and champagne under their umbrellas, while we weren't as prepared for the late summer afternoon showers. Later that evening we went on a pub crawl where the bars started out calm and relaxed but quickly changed. By 2 in the morning, we headed to McDonald's, where it is apparently the it place for late night mingling. It seemed like the conservatively dressed Ivy League crowd went in and the Jersey Shore/ Spice Girls looking crew took over. This main street was like a miniature Marti Gras on Bourbon Street. Shocking, yet entertaining transformation to say the least.
      This morning, my last day in Oxford, we woke up early and took a train, followed by a gorgeous bike ride through rolling green hills speckled with sheep and cows. We arrived in Joey's fathers village about an hour away for a traditional family roast. His house was built in the 1750's and you actually have to duck in certain places so you don't hit your head on the ceiling. We walked around his lush gardens and played with the chickens. It is amazing the things you can grow in these climates, so different from home. He made a giant pig (ex pet) roast, which I was assured had been taken very well care of. Basically I ate pork after years of not doing so, and LOVED it. For desert he made rhubarb cobbler with custard, soooo delicious. I've never met kinder, more generous people. They warmed my heart and I'll never forget this gracious family. They are so loving of one another and the guests that are brought into their home. I pray I get the chance to meet them again some day. I leave tomorrow for Snowdon, Wales, where I'll be living for the next month. As the English say, CHEERS!