Having dropped off 13,000 words of something in my supervisor’s pidge in lieu of a rough draft (more-or-less a prose version of my notes which I hope to shape into an actual argument at some later point in time), I packed my bag and headed off to St Pancras to take the Eurostar south for a much needed break in sunnier climes.
This week was a bit of a holiday, as my little sister stopped in to visit me on her way to other foreign climes. In between a few of my language classes, we strolled around Oxford taking in the sights and doing Oxfordy things: wandering around colleges, popping into Blackwell’s, punting on the Cherwell, picnicking on the Port Meadow, eating dinner at the Eagle & Child pub–plus a whole afternoon spent rooting around the myriad and marvellous anthropological wonders crammed inside the Pitt Rivers Museum.
We also took the coach to spend a couple days in the beautiful Georgian town of Bath (whence the charmingly cheerful umbrellas in the photo) and spent a memorable afternoon getting absolutely soaked by rain in London and meekly sloshing our way around the British Museum.
All too soon, though, she was off on a jet-plane, and I was headed back to my neglected books . . .
Right in the middle of the last week of term, I took a quick jaunt up to Scotland for a postgraduate visiting day at the University of St Andrews, about 50 miles north-east of Edinburgh on the Fife coast. Although the 5am departure was less than ideal, I very much enjoyed the train ride once I had gotten through London and left King’s Cross for the long ride north. Continue reading Escape to Scotland (8th Week, HT)