Back in Oxford again!
After enjoying several weeks of prolonged summer while my friends at CSU are busy gearing up for midterms, I finally feel that my fall has started for good. Now that I’m back in Oxford, summer is officially over and it’s time for the real work to begin. Time to slough off the little extra laziness I acquired over the summer and cultivate a brand new shiney attitude for the term — a task that’s easier said than done when you’ve spent three hours standing in line at the border and received little to no sleep at all in the last a 24-hour period.
By the way, international travel is a beast. It chews you up, swishes you around and then spits you back up on the other side of the world. And then, TA-DAH! You’re in England! But you’re dirty and smelly and aggravated and waxing claustrophobic, so you don’t have time to celebrate. Instead, all you can think about is slipping into one of England’s antiquated bathtubs or sipping on one of its quintessential “cuppas” — anything that’s warm, soothing and does not resemble an airport terminal. Once you finally get the respite from travel you’ve been waiting on for so long and think Aaaah, thank you, Britain. I knew you wouldn’t let an old chum down.
As I rode into town on the bus and now sit here with my steaming cuppa tea (mmm, warm, soothing, and not resembling an airport terminal…) I couldn’t help but being overcome with the overwhelming sense of comfort I often associate with home. I sighed and said to myself “Here at last…home sweet home.” Would it be too presumptuous to call this magnificent city “home” even though I’ve only lived here for six months before? I’m not sure, but I can’t deny that there is at least, if nothing else, a certain sense of hominess about this city and about this house that makes it home to me in its own way.
The Spencer House is familiar and comfortable. A lot of these mirrors have seen my face before. I remember which stairs creak and how the dishes are arranged inside the cupboards. This house has a distinctive smell and an all around distinctive character that warrants at least a mild sentimentality that’s often born out of familiarity.
The city has a personality too. All the old spires, the cobblestone streets and corner shops give it an Old World charm — an undeniable part of its alluring mystique. Honestly, I could carry on about Oxford’s one-of-a-kind atmosphere for pages, but it’s getting late and jet lag is striking with a vengeance.
So for now, goodnight. I made it back “home” again and can’t wait to start another adventure again tomorrow.