sabato 21 maggio 2011

The Perch Pub








The first time we went to the Perch it was on Easter. The weather was lovely and we hadn't started yet working hard for the end of term assignments.
Many of our friends were back to their countries, but we managed to put together a small group of people and ventured through Port Meadows, just outside of Jericho.
My Italian friends from London came as well - Virgi and Claire.

The walk to the pub is breathtaking, it doesn't even seem to be in England. Wilde horses, cows and all sort of animals are all over the place; the river is beautiful and calm, with people kayaking and boat houses.





The second time we went there was to celebrate Lisa's birthday and the end of term. It was an amazing night. We enjoyed good company and good beers until 11pm. Then, on the way back, surrounded by darkness and with the dim light of the moon, we approached some wild horses and softly caressed them. It was amazing.

And for the first time I realized that I am going to miss all of this. Oxford and all the people I met here - we might not hang out together often, but they have been part of my daily routine from September to now. And suddenly they won't be anymore. And the sad part is that it will be normal; one we will be back to our countries, all of this will be only a nice, unreal, parenthesis.

Oxford by night



As I said, Oxford is like a beautiful bubble - we are out of time.
I love the little alleys in Jericho and in the city centre. It's as if one could stop the flow of time, leave a crowded street and turn left. There, a narrow path with walls made of stones and old fashioned lamps brings you back in time. No noise can be heard a part from some occasional cyclists. The air is almost still, too respectful of the magic atmosphere to move.
It's easy to fall in love with this (un)reality.

Surprise - 25 February 2011

To:
Jorinde - Belgium
Egle - Lithuania
Emily - UK
Alex - UK
Lisa - Germany
Sarah - South Africa
Lydia - Germany
Ross - Scotland
Andrea - Italy
Jo - UK
Jeanne - France
Ian - Canada
Andrea - Norway
Maluen - France 
Raya - Bulgaria
Signe - Denmark
Jonny - UK
Anders - Sweden

Thank you guys. This is a day I don't want to forget.

My Oxford girlfriend


She is the one to wake me up every morning.

To keep me awake in the afternoon.

And to wish me a sweet goodnight before going to bed.

Cowley Road




Cowley Road fascinates me. 
It's literally 1 minute away from the city centre. Once you have crossed Magdalen Bridge, the elegant and suspended atmosphere created by the colleges is left behind, and you are ready to dive into reality. 


Cowley Road is not beautiful. 
A long shabby street, with a plethora of cheap take aways that smell of fried oil, cheap restaurants and ethnic shops.


Cowley Road is not rich.

People here are not elegant nor intellectuals - they are normal people, and students.
It is not unusual to see beggars or passersby talking to themselves.


Cowley Road is not clean.
The biggest supermarket is Tesco, prey to hangover students and mothers with a trolley to fill with the cheapest items they can find. Here it's not a matter of quality, but quantity.


Cowley Road is real.


Some months ago, a man has been stabbed in front of Costa Coffee.


This is Cowley Road. You are welcome.

Jorinde

Living room in Warren Crescent