Getting My Sea Legs

When I was a pre-teen, I went to sailing camp. We had several within an hour’s drive of New Bern, and I had asked if I could go away to sleep-away camp since so many of my friends did something similar each summer. So I went to Camp Don Lee, the more affordable of the two camps near my house. The fact that it was a sailing camp was by no means the draw. I just wanted to experience that archetypal adventure of so many people my age.

What followed was a testament to my awkward adolescence. I didn’t mesh with the cool kids because, well, I usually don’t. I spent many hours dreading the high dive (I did eventually overcome this fear). I tipped over a canoe, partly because of my own ineptness and partly because I hated the girl who was in the boat with me. And, finally, I rammed my little sail boat into a local yacht and ripped my sail. I was Camp Don Lee’s worst nightmare.

So today I came full circle when I accompanied an experienced sailor and Robin on a trip around Lake Windermere in Ambleside, England. Robin really wanted to do it because she is presenting on Swallows and Amazons later this week and thought it would be good research (most of the sailing terms in the book went over all our heads). I just wanted to get in a boat since we have a lake so conveniently close.

I actually had a lot of fun. Our instructor, Gary, was one of those philosopher boat men that you think only exist in Hemingway stories. He called me “Michele, ma belle” after the Beatles song and described me as “practical” (he nailed that one, for sure). He was extremely sarcastic and occasionally broke off into random tangents about life and finding one’s passion. I feel privileged to have met him because I definitely think there was a little of my dad in him.

The sailing itself went well too. I took to the tiller pretty well and was starting to anticipate the wind by the time we neared the dock. We also visited the boat house of an old castle along the shore that a rich doctor had built for himself and his new wife in the late 1800s. According to Gary, the man’s new wife decided (on their wedding night when she got her “present”) that she didn’t like it, so they never lived in it. The English call such projects “folly.” That is not an unfamiliar word to Americans, but the English use it quite often to describe frivolous and expensive projects that the rich do for impractical reasons.

I loved being on the water in a non-motorized boat. There were no sounds in our direct vicinity except for the murmur of the wind against the sail and the occasional splash as our boat glided across the water. I’m not going to run out and get my captain’s license tomorrow but I can add sailing to the list of outdoor activities that I enjoy.

I know I’m a different person than I was at Camp Don Lee so many years ago. I have the benefits of experience, the scars from various tragedies, the laugh lines from happy times, and the increased brain function that comes from trying to decipher Chip Sullivan’s feelings toward your written work. I have, in short, grown up. Not so much that I can’t discuss the merits of the Disney film Emperor’s New Groove with a favorite student, but I am certainly an adult. There are times, like today, when I am completely content with the adult that I have become.

Some Assorted Pictures

Our wonderful sailboat.

Sunset on the hills of Haworth, England.

Bad photography thanks to "back woods" English ladies.

Outside of Haworth Hostel.

The evil ride at Cadbury World. Scary stuff.

My bed (lower one) at the Oxford Hostel.

The stairs (so many stairs!) at the Oxford Hostel.

A dog that smiles in Haworth, England.

The Bronte Parsonage, almost as it was....

The hostel stairs in Haworth, England.

The boat dock of a rather young castle in Ambleside, England.

The yachts lining a dock in Ambleside, England.

A pretty bridge at the Oxford Botanical Gardens.

Me and the man himself, Philip Pullman.

English Countryside (Finally)

When one thinks of England, one usually channels Jane Austen movies. Lots of grass-covered hills, wind-swept moors, and ancient stone buildings with nothing around them for miles. I finally found that part of England yesterday. We drove away from Oxford and suddenly there were stone walls for miles, perfectly square fields and sheep grazing in the grass.

Ahhh....

We went to Sarehole Mill first where Tolkien grew up. He didn't have a very easy childhood. His father died in S. Africa (where he was born) when he was taking a trip to England, and his mother also died from complications with diabetes when he was still quite young. He lived with an unhappy aunt, in various boarding homes under a certain priest's guardianship, and finally on his own in Oxford. Despite the hardship, Tolkien had quite the playground to enjoy as a child and the thick forests, green bogs, fierce fords, and tall buildings that surrounded his early home may certainly have played a part in his later works. There was even a pair of tall towers in town that may have influenced him when he was writing a certain trilogy....

However, it's all conjecture, and I, nor the tour guide, can really say for certain what influenced him and what didn't, but he grew up in an area that was certainly reminiscent of the Middle Earth he created in his novels.

We then traveled to Birmingham where we visited the Cadbury Chocolate Factory. Free chocolate. Good. Really lame rides through psycho chocolate-man town. Not so good. We enjoyed the historical portions but some of it was down-right creepy. And not Gene Wilder creepy because that would have been OK. Unfortunately you don't really get to see much of the manufactoring first hand, and I felt really sorry for the factory workers who have to watch people walk past them all day. Then the Cadabra ride. Oh man. My fellow riders and I were supposed to make funny faces when they did the automatic picture at the end. However, I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO DID IT. The picture that resulted is one of the most frightening images of me I have encountered, and I spent the next fifteen minutes bent over laughing. I look like a troll. I can't even post it on here because if someone who didn't like me got their hands on it, I would probably see it again...perhaps in a less flattering setting. Sorry, folks. If you want to see it, I might have to get you to sign a waver or something.

We then took a really long bus ride to Haworth. However, that's when we really got to see the hills of England. Gorgeous! If I could live in England, I would definitely want to live near Haworth. Our hostel was the best yet; it looked like an ancient boarding house with a huge, grand staircase, stained glass windows everywhere, and a English charm that made us swoon. Robin and I took a really long walk up one of the adjacent hills and we met two lovely English women. We tried to get them to take a picture of us but they were not familiar with digital cameras and they had the hardest time figuring out how to use mine. One woman finally got a picture, but she did it just as Robin was smacking her forehead in amusement (it was a great day for pictures). The other woman took over and took a picture with my right side cut off. Failed effort but a great story.

We had a late night pizza with our main professor, Julie, and talked about marriage and literature and England. It was nice and apparently entertaining because a fellow guest was in the room and commented on how "interesting" our conversation was as he was going to bed. At least he was honest about listening in. I guess.

In the morning we went to Haworth proper and saw the Bronte parsonage where the entire Bronte troop grew up. Sometimes I marvel at how one family can have so much talent. The Sedaris' are all really funny and peculiar. The Williams sisters dominate the tennis world. And the Brontes could all magically write amazing novels (or paint amazing pictures or both). Their story is a tragic one and it was interesting to walk the fields nearby, see the couch where Emily (of Wuthering Heights fame) died, and see the rooms where their famous works were created. The town itself should be renamed Bronteworth because almost every establishment is named after the family or the books (they apparently had a Jane Hair salon once upon a time). However, it was very picturesque and I would love to see it again some day.

Finally one more bus ride and now we're in Ambleside, England. To my left is Lake Windermere and a host of sailboats. It rained on and off today, but, no matter the weather, the sky was a beautiful mixture of blues and grays and greens. I can see why English people vacation here (including Philip Pullman). Tomorrow Robin and I will rent some sort of boat and paddle around during our first free day. In the meantime, I have to write something for class and continue reading for my paper. We may be traveling the countryside and enjoying ourselves immensely, but we are still doing quite a bit of work.

Tomorrow I'll just post pictures so you can get a better idea of what's going on. Our room is up a maze of stairwells and I left my camera upstairs. And that is where it will stay until tomorrow.

By the way, the weather finally broke and it's been extremely pleasant the past two days. I am one very lucky girl.

A Dream Come True

Today my favorite author answered all my questions. He told us about his work, what he likes to read, and what he thinks his books mean. He said many brilliant things, and I wish I could quote him because no one can put it like he can, but there are two things that I think are worth paraphrasing. He said that children can read anything if they like something about it. No matter how complicated His Dark Materials has become over time, he says that children will still read it because they love Lyra and that anything important to Lyra will naturally be important to them. He said that he would give a 10-year-old a quantum mechanics book if he thought he/she would have even the slightest interest in it. He also said that the most important thing we can do for children is read nursery rhymes to them. He said that sitting a child in one’s lap and reading those beautiful poems to them will help them love language long before they enter a classroom. By igniting that love in them at a young age, we will be that much closer to getting them to read once they are too big for our laps.

It was exactly what we all wanted. He was charming and intelligent and very generous in his responses. We got some insights into his world and sharing that beautiful tea room with him for two hours was the experience of a lifetime. Also, he brought his personal alethiometer. The one he had a jeweler make for him. We got to play with it.

We capped the evening with a trip to the Botanic Gardens where Lyra and Will would “meet” in their separate Oxfords once a year to remember their love for one another. Erin, Carly and I were walking around and we saw Tolkien’s favorite tree (which we noticed before we even knew what it was because it was just that cool).

We then passed by a bench and I made the comment that it was the perfect bench for the book because it was a little tucked away and looking out on a portion of a water garden. I even said, “I could see thinking about someone I love in a space like this.” We continued on our way and later realized that we couldn’t find the right bench. After consulting our maps, we realized it was the bench we had talked about earlier. Good choice, Mr. Pullman!

Overall, it was a great last day in Oxford. We had an amazing time here and saw sights related to Wind in the Willows, Harry Potter, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and His Dark Materials. We spoke to an inspiring modern author, drank tea on the grass next to a world famous Regatta, and saw Tolkien’s personal illustrations for The Hobbit. If my trip was ending tomorrow, I would be satisfied.

Tomorrow we go to Haworth and will see some Tolkien sites. Then we’ll go to the Cadbury Chocolate Factory and channel Roald Dahl for a few hours. We’ll be traveling by bus and lugging our lovely luggage around with us (which for me has grown slightly), but we’re all ready for a change of scenery. And weather (fingers crossed).

Sculling Along the River

Tonight I sat by the Thames and read from The Subtle Knife. I think it’s a fitting way to spend the evening before I meet the man himself—Philip Pullman. All of my classmates are excited to meet him, and I’m sure I’m not that much more excited than they are, but I may be a little. After all, I have been a fan of Pullman’s since I first read The Golden Compass. He was the first modern writer to really pull me in, and we share a lot of the same philosophies, which makes the connection that much stronger.

I’ll hopefully pull (ha, ha) myself together tomorrow and sound reasonable in my questioning. We’ll see….

As for today, we started with a wonderful lecture by Peter Hunt (British children’s lit. guru) on Alice and Wind in the Willows. He is one of those darling British men who mumbles under his breath and spouts brilliance every five seconds. It was a great experience, and he accompanied us on the next phase of our journey which was to travel to Henley on the Thames and experience our first Regatta.

Apparently, as a part of the British “seasons,” aristocrats travel to Henley at the beginning of July for a five-day regatta that features 4 and 8-person rowing teams from all over the world. The men wear their college blazers that can be all shades of the rainbow and some even have lovely vertical stripes. The women dress up and wear little flying things on their heads. We were a little out of our element and it was blazing hot, but we got through it and had tea in one of the tents. I did try the hot tea, with one sugar cube and some milk; I, unsurprisingly, did not like it. I did also have some tea sandwiches and my first scone. Was not expecting it to be like a biscuit. However, the cream and fruit inside were much better than a Bo’ Berry. I also tried Pimms which is a famous English beverage that tastes like orange soda.

We made it through tea and ventured inside a rare bookstore which had a 1st edition of The Hobbit for a mere 45,000 pounds (around $75,000). We also saw a 1st edition of Peter and Wendy and some original artwork from The Wind in the Willows. It was a neat surprise.

Then we caught the train, and I went for my little reading excursion. The Thames portions near my hostel are interesting. There is graffiti all along the walls of the townhomes on the river but the bank is covered in wildflowers. The bench I sat on was surrounded by trash and cigarette remains, but in front of me were two adult swans, two young swans, and a dozen ducks of various colorings. I did a little bird watching and saw a duck eat out of an elderly man’s hand on the bench next to me. All that nature and all that destruction in one small place. That is Oxford in a nutshell. There is so much beauty here but so much commercialization. You have to learn to watch the swans and ignore the trash.

Tolkien is the Man

I have now spent two full days in Oxford. I think, looking back on this trip some day, I won’t remember how hot it was but at this exact moment, I am very aware of how incredibly sticky I am at this moment. You might find my surprise intriguing because it is the end of June and one would expect it to be hot. Well, even the people who live here are surprised by the heat. It was supposed to be in the seventies but it’s been in the nineties and humid. It’s not so bad walking around the city because there is usually a nice breeze but inside our non-air conditioned hostel…that’s another story.
However, I am not going to be a whiny American. I can survive without air conditioning for four weeks; I would just prefer to be typing this piece on a bench outside Exeter College. However that’s not exactly safe when I still don’t have my bearings around the city yet and no one else wants to do anything similar. So hot hostel it is.
Today was very surreal. We had our creative writing class in the morning. I sense that we will not be overloaded with writing assignments in there. She is looking for us to write at our own pace, whatever that might be. Since my writing habits are still very sketchy and inconsistent, I’m not sure what that will mean for me.
Then we went to the Bodleian Library and had a special tour through their special collections. I don’t have pictures because they don’t let you take pictures but it was amazing. I saw, firsthand, J.R.R. Tolkien’s original watercolors for The Hobbit. I saw a page that he wrote himself that was from The Lord of the Rings trilogy. We saw his scribbles and personal photographs. All the real deal. We also saw one of C.S. Lewis’ personal notebooks and his version of the map of Narnia. They said that no one gets to look at the originals and even visiting scholars usually only look at copies. In addition, they showed us some early pieces of children’s literature including the oldest hornbook still in existence and an extremely old chapbook. Then we got a special tour through the tunnel that connects the New and Old Bodleians. In the older building, we went up to a special reading room with texts from the 1400s. The room itself was built during Queen Elizabeth’s reign and has remained mostly intact. I cannot believe sometimes that I am experiencing places where King Henry VIII walked or where J.R.R. Tolkien had his lunch. For dinner, we went to The Eagle and Child, where the Inklings (among whom were Tolkien and Lewis) used to meet for breakfast every Tuesday. I had my first plate of fish and chips there and reveled in the glory that is Oxford.
What’s been interesting is how seriously we are being taken by the faculty and staff at these various prestigious libraries and colleges. Children’s Literature is still a growing field in the US, so I still get some raised eyebrows when I say I’m studying it. Even in Oxford they have some issues with its rising popularity as a field of study. Despite the number of famous authors who have studied or taught at Oxford, they still feel that it’s not quite up there with Shakespeare. However, we have had the opposite experience with the people we have met. Yesterday we were taught about how children’s literature was impacted by authors rowing along the Thames, and our tour guide in Oxford proper was able to show us several significant spots among the colleges that we have read about in our various favorites. Today took the cake though because we felt like privileged guests, and the people who lectured for us were incredibly knowledgeable and inspiring. I am so happy that I have had the chance to experience all of this firsthand and it was totally worth the two weeks of craziness that led up to it.
Tomorrow is the rowing museum and tea at a regatta. It’s a Wind in the Willows inspired day and I hope I’ll be able to see more British countryside. Now I have to get some work done for class tomorrow and try to write the beginnings of a fairy tale. I’ll leave you with a copy of what I got to see today:

Computer Difficulties

Current Location: Youth Hostel, Oxford, England


So the bummer of our current accomodations is that we only have wi-fi access in the lobby, and we have to buy stuff from the cafe to access it (one hour per purchased item). We also don't have AC here and it's been rather warm so I'm burning up right now as I type this. Thus, I'll mostly be posting pictures for the next few days until we find ourselves in better circumstances. However, I saw amazing things today and feel very much content with all that I'm learning/experiencing right now.

A fun take on my former Latin duties (Eat Latin, Drink Latin) down the street from our hostel.









Harry Potter's Great Hall (However, before that, it was and is the dining hall of Christ Church College in Oxford).









Alice's Window as part of the stained glass at Christ Church's Dining Hall. Charles Dodgson (Lewis Carroll--the man who wrote Alice's Adventures in Wonderland) was a math teacher at the school and Alice Liddell's (the girl who inspired Dodgson to write down the tales) father was the head of the college.





The steps leading up the dining room that have also been witness to some film crews for the HP films. These are the steps that the students wait on before going into the Great Hall.








Radcliffe Camera (a part of the Bodleian Library). We'll be doing an extensive tour of the library tomorrow and seeing some of their rare book collection (exciting for English majors, not so much for everyone else).







The backside of a T-Rex. It hasn't been all English all the time around here.

Our little boat crew on the Thames.

One of the boats that we took on the Thames.















The Thames at dusk.












The path we took to get to the boat dock.

More pictures to come when this computer stops being annoying.