The Oxford Saga
Feb. 3rd, 2004 11:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
davidnHere it is - I've been working on it since early this morning.
Part the First - In which Wong discovers tragic news while waiting six hours for a plane
Getting up at five o'clock was a bit of a struggle, and I was rather surprised to discover that some people hadn't been to bed yet when I went in to the chatroom. Am I the only one here that has relatively normal sleeping hours? Still, I managed to sleep on the bus on the way to Edinburgh. I didn't hang around in the town at all, instead taking the bus straight to the airport, arriving at about ten.
I've always been a little nervous about airport security. It's necessary, but they really do make you feel like some sort of criminal (and especially with my jacket, goodness knows what they would find in there). Still, I wasn't stopped at all. The next few hours were spent in the departure lounge watching the BBC news and waiting for the Easyjet plane, which typically had been delayed. During that time, Greg Dyke resigned - so Dead Ringers won't be able to do their Michael Caine/Greg Dyke routine any more. :(
Flying is another thing that I'm not too keen on. It comes from having been on a plane with a rather inexperienced pilot when I was three, so the landing wasn't too good. That's the bit I remember most. I got over most of that when I was about sixteen, though. Ever seen Will Self on Room 101? I agree with him - flying is a far less amazing experience than it should be. There should be people in golden winged helmets chanting "Fly! Fly!" at the terminal gates, statues along the runway and the pilot going "Woahohohohohoh!" during takeoff.
The bus to Oxford was the last stage of the journey, and that took ages. Eventually I arrived at the bus station and met Whitney. There was a bit of an awkward moment when neither of us really knew what to say, but it soon passed. After getting settled in to the flat and meeting Whitney's flatmates, we had a late dinner and then went to bed rather early, having been exhausted from the travelling. I've no idea why that happens - it's just sitting around, after all, and that's what I do all day anyway.
Part the Second - In which Wong can't remember much about the day
Whitney showed me round a bit of Oxford and the University buildings the next morning. Their computer room rivals Andrew Melville Hall - it's down a dark staircase in to a damp little dungeon somewhere, but at least it has working computers that are all reasonably near being completely assembled.
When we came back we watched the West Wing for a while. What an awful lot of letter "W"s. I didn't really follow it as I'd never seen it before and we didn't watch episodes in order, but it was enjoyable enough. We also talked about where our relationship was going... we know that we'll both find other people eventually, but for now we're friends/more than friends... just because it doesn't have a name doesn't mean it isn't valid.
Dinner that night was from the grocery shop across the road - "Eggs Eggsetera", the worst-named store to have ever existed.
Part the Third - In which Wong the country-boy goes to London, and is introduced to a large magic Japanese cat.
Getting up early the next morning, we took the bus in to the centre of London (nearly typed "center" there) and I rode the Tube for the first time. The National Gallery was the first place we visited - Whitney and I agreed that the ceilings were even more impressive than the paintings in places. But anyway, at least I've now seen something resembling culture and art.
Bowling came next. Oddly, I remember the lanes being rather thin, which hampered Brian's eccentric bowling style that involved not using the holes and hurling the ball in a curve down towards the pins. Afterwards we went to Wagamama, the Japanese noodle bar, where I was surprised to find that Chicken Ramen is rather good - at least, when I got over the difficulty of using chopsticks. And I now have another word added to my Japanese vocabulary.
Avoiding the flooded stations on the Tube on the way back, we made it back to Oxford and watched Totoro while feeding each other Milk Tray. You all know how I'm a mild Japanophile, so I thought it was great instantly, especially the part with the umbrella, closely to be followed by the arrival of the cat with ten legs and a bus for a body. Or was it a bus with ten legs and a cat's head? You people are all weird.
Part the Fourth - In which Wong finds a magical ocarina in his jacket
Part the Fourth - In which Wong does nothing at all, really
The next day was spent in the flat watching a couple of films. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, which I hadn't seen since I was about ten, is even more bizarre than I first remember. I didn't get most of it back then, but I think even though it's a children's story I can appreciate it more now.
As Bryn and Paul have already seen, I was also given a haircut by Whitney, using Ahmed's hair trimmer, so I'm now sporting my modelled-on-Piet-Sielck hairstyle (near bald). I think it was Elena that remarked afterwards that I looked like Billy Corgan from the Smashing Pumpkins, which oddly enough is the second time that that's been said to me in two... er... years.
The last meal I had at the flat was a thermonuclear beef stew prepared by Ahmed. He warned us all that it would be "mildly spicy", but to use a Red Dwarfism, it really could have been used to cut through bank vaults.
Part the Fifth - In which Wong acquires the Ring and subsequently loses it nine hours later
It was difficult to say goodbye in the morning, but it had to happen eventually. I was given a letter and a ring made out of that round dog-tag chain stuff that I don't know the name of. The letter made me a little emotional for a while, I'll admit it, but I was soon cheered up by the incredibly angry bus driver. Constantly during the journey you could quite clearly hear him shouting "What the bloody hell are you doing, you stupid wanker?!" and the like at other cars.
Happily, thanks to the homing device that was implanted in my right foot at birth, I found not one but two DDR machines in Stansted Airport. Actually it was quite embarrassing, compared to my usually refined taste in music (i.e. anything that Kai Hansen, Piet Sielck or Derek Riggs had anything to do with) to draw quite a crowd around it while bouncing along to a J-pop version of "5, 6, 7, 8" by Steps. I think my addiction's getting me in to bad music, I actually found myself quite liking something called... oh, I don't know, "Namu namu namu" or something.
The plane ride back was bumpier than before as we were heading towards the massive cloud called "Edinburgh", though I was amused during the flight by a toddler in front of me who wouldn't stop asking his mother questions throughout the whole journey. His greatest moment came when he asked her if they needed to go to the "boot of the plane" to get luggage.
Unfortunately, when walking through Edinburgh I suddenly realised that the ring round my finger had gone. It must have just been too large for my finger and slipped off somewhere in the town. It was quite symbolic in a way, but it doesn't really matter, and at least I still have the letter. A bus journey and a walk later, I finally got back.
That was it. It was a very enjoyable weekend, even though I feel that I've spent far too much money. I dread to think what my next bank statement will look like, but it was well worth it.
Part the First - In which Wong discovers tragic news while waiting six hours for a plane
Getting up at five o'clock was a bit of a struggle, and I was rather surprised to discover that some people hadn't been to bed yet when I went in to the chatroom. Am I the only one here that has relatively normal sleeping hours? Still, I managed to sleep on the bus on the way to Edinburgh. I didn't hang around in the town at all, instead taking the bus straight to the airport, arriving at about ten.
I've always been a little nervous about airport security. It's necessary, but they really do make you feel like some sort of criminal (and especially with my jacket, goodness knows what they would find in there). Still, I wasn't stopped at all. The next few hours were spent in the departure lounge watching the BBC news and waiting for the Easyjet plane, which typically had been delayed. During that time, Greg Dyke resigned - so Dead Ringers won't be able to do their Michael Caine/Greg Dyke routine any more. :(
Flying is another thing that I'm not too keen on. It comes from having been on a plane with a rather inexperienced pilot when I was three, so the landing wasn't too good. That's the bit I remember most. I got over most of that when I was about sixteen, though. Ever seen Will Self on Room 101? I agree with him - flying is a far less amazing experience than it should be. There should be people in golden winged helmets chanting "Fly! Fly!" at the terminal gates, statues along the runway and the pilot going "Woahohohohohoh!" during takeoff.
The bus to Oxford was the last stage of the journey, and that took ages. Eventually I arrived at the bus station and met Whitney. There was a bit of an awkward moment when neither of us really knew what to say, but it soon passed. After getting settled in to the flat and meeting Whitney's flatmates, we had a late dinner and then went to bed rather early, having been exhausted from the travelling. I've no idea why that happens - it's just sitting around, after all, and that's what I do all day anyway.
Part the Second - In which Wong can't remember much about the day
Whitney showed me round a bit of Oxford and the University buildings the next morning. Their computer room rivals Andrew Melville Hall - it's down a dark staircase in to a damp little dungeon somewhere, but at least it has working computers that are all reasonably near being completely assembled.
When we came back we watched the West Wing for a while. What an awful lot of letter "W"s. I didn't really follow it as I'd never seen it before and we didn't watch episodes in order, but it was enjoyable enough. We also talked about where our relationship was going... we know that we'll both find other people eventually, but for now we're friends/more than friends... just because it doesn't have a name doesn't mean it isn't valid.
Dinner that night was from the grocery shop across the road - "Eggs Eggsetera", the worst-named store to have ever existed.
Part the Third - In which Wong the country-boy goes to London, and is introduced to a large magic Japanese cat.
Getting up early the next morning, we took the bus in to the centre of London (nearly typed "center" there) and I rode the Tube for the first time. The National Gallery was the first place we visited - Whitney and I agreed that the ceilings were even more impressive than the paintings in places. But anyway, at least I've now seen something resembling culture and art.
Bowling came next. Oddly, I remember the lanes being rather thin, which hampered Brian's eccentric bowling style that involved not using the holes and hurling the ball in a curve down towards the pins. Afterwards we went to Wagamama, the Japanese noodle bar, where I was surprised to find that Chicken Ramen is rather good - at least, when I got over the difficulty of using chopsticks. And I now have another word added to my Japanese vocabulary.
Avoiding the flooded stations on the Tube on the way back, we made it back to Oxford and watched Totoro while feeding each other Milk Tray. You all know how I'm a mild Japanophile, so I thought it was great instantly, especially the part with the umbrella, closely to be followed by the arrival of the cat with ten legs and a bus for a body. Or was it a bus with ten legs and a cat's head? You people are all weird.
Part the Fourth - In which Wong does nothing at all, really
The next day was spent in the flat watching a couple of films. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, which I hadn't seen since I was about ten, is even more bizarre than I first remember. I didn't get most of it back then, but I think even though it's a children's story I can appreciate it more now.
As Bryn and Paul have already seen, I was also given a haircut by Whitney, using Ahmed's hair trimmer, so I'm now sporting my modelled-on-Piet-Sielck hairstyle (near bald). I think it was Elena that remarked afterwards that I looked like Billy Corgan from the Smashing Pumpkins, which oddly enough is the second time that that's been said to me in two... er... years.
The last meal I had at the flat was a thermonuclear beef stew prepared by Ahmed. He warned us all that it would be "mildly spicy", but to use a Red Dwarfism, it really could have been used to cut through bank vaults.
Part the Fifth - In which Wong acquires the Ring and subsequently loses it nine hours later
It was difficult to say goodbye in the morning, but it had to happen eventually. I was given a letter and a ring made out of that round dog-tag chain stuff that I don't know the name of. The letter made me a little emotional for a while, I'll admit it, but I was soon cheered up by the incredibly angry bus driver. Constantly during the journey you could quite clearly hear him shouting "What the bloody hell are you doing, you stupid wanker?!" and the like at other cars.
Happily, thanks to the homing device that was implanted in my right foot at birth, I found not one but two DDR machines in Stansted Airport. Actually it was quite embarrassing, compared to my usually refined taste in music (i.e. anything that Kai Hansen, Piet Sielck or Derek Riggs had anything to do with) to draw quite a crowd around it while bouncing along to a J-pop version of "5, 6, 7, 8" by Steps. I think my addiction's getting me in to bad music, I actually found myself quite liking something called... oh, I don't know, "Namu namu namu" or something.
The plane ride back was bumpier than before as we were heading towards the massive cloud called "Edinburgh", though I was amused during the flight by a toddler in front of me who wouldn't stop asking his mother questions throughout the whole journey. His greatest moment came when he asked her if they needed to go to the "boot of the plane" to get luggage.
Unfortunately, when walking through Edinburgh I suddenly realised that the ring round my finger had gone. It must have just been too large for my finger and slipped off somewhere in the town. It was quite symbolic in a way, but it doesn't really matter, and at least I still have the letter. A bus journey and a walk later, I finally got back.
That was it. It was a very enjoyable weekend, even though I feel that I've spent far too much money. I dread to think what my next bank statement will look like, but it was well worth it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-02-03 03:57 am (UTC)Sounds like you had a good time.
I was one of those 'still awake at 5' people, wasn't I? Oh dear. (Yes, you are the only person with normal sleeping patterns.)