After the quick forty-eight hours in Dublin, I had a rainy start to my flight back to England – walking through the cobble stone streets with my pack on my back and another strapped to the front, all the while trying to see through my rained on glasses. I must have looked like a very tired traveler, despite it only being the early days of my trip. Arriving back in London alone was very surreal. Walking through Heathrow and down to the tube without an ounce of fear for my back time in England was absolutely wonderful. It felt like coming home to the city I love – it reassured me that whilst I was away for nine months, part of my heart still remained in the crazy, busy city of London.
I spent one night back on the South Bank – in a hotel this time, as I was sadly no longer a student of Kings College & living with my wonderful flat of ladies on Stamford Street. The countdown to the reunion with my British babes got closer to zero and my excitement was uncontrollable. With a stroke of luck, one of the ladies from the neighboring flat, Chloe, and I were able to catch a Sunday roast dinner before checking out some of our old stomping grounds once again. Living in London this past fall was one of the greatest and enlightening times I’ve had, but it’s incredibly strange when you have this group of friends that are so insanely kind and comforting, best friends you might say – but they live across an ocean. I was just having a talk about this with a few of these ladies the other day – how did we get so lucky to meet lifelong best friends in a brand new and exciting city?
While I only had a quick night in London, the amount of homesickness for this city that I’ve had all year subsided with just a few hours of roaming around. In the afternoon, I decided to catch a train out to the west to Oxford. One of the ladies from my flat, Lydia, grew up in Oxford and was at home for the summer – so instead of meeting up in Cornwall for our music festival (which I’ll most definitely write about later), we decided that I could come stay for a few days and see the outrageously classic town of Oxford.
The taxi from the train station to Charles Street was quite short, only about ten minutes, until a grinning Lydia stood outside her adorable blue front door waving hello. After a few excited yelps and a big hug, I was meeting her wonderful family and setting my backpack down in my room for the next two days. That night we decided to stay in and Lydia’s mom cooked us a delicious meal of sautéed fish, buttered potatoes and a lovely strawberry pavlova for pudding later on. Of course, the night would not have been complete without an everlasting game of Monopoly (which I won with some incredible stroke of luck, because in the history of my games of Monopoly, I’m quite sure I’ve never won). Finally my jet lag was subsiding and my bones were feeling tired enough to let me have a restful night of sleep in Oxford, thankfully.
When the sun began shining through the window, I woke with a smile – waking up in a home rather than a hotel is relaxing. Hearing the bustling of people downstairs rather than the stark silence that comes with a hotel morning made me feel, well, more at home. Lydia’s mom had a pot of tea waiting in their gorgeous naturally lit and modern kitchen along with fruit salad, toast and all the fixings. I’ve got to say, British families certainly know how to be hospitable – each and everyone of the families that I’ve had the pleasure to meet have been so welcoming.
After a sleepy Lydia woke up, we were dropped off in town center to get some last minute supplies for our adventure to Boardmasters Music Festival the very next morning. Of course, I couldn’t visit Oxford without a few historic sites. We roamed around Christ Church campus of Oxford University to tour the grounds – walking past the a few of the original sites in the Harry Potter movies, my inner fangirl was most definitely doing cartwheels. With our provisions in hand, we ventured to the Covered Market to have lunch at Giorgina’s Cafe. The brightly painted, poster covered cafe looked like a scene out of a early 90’s film – playing soft music, smelling of freshly baked goods & chatting people of all ages. In lieu of a taxi, Lydia and I walked though winding streets back to her home, so we could spend the night rainproofing our bags and putting the finishing touches on all our camping gear for the next leg of our adventure.
With one last look at the forecast for the next morning in Newquay, Cornwall, we knew setting up our tent in heavy rain and whipping winds would be tough. With multiple bin bags lining our packs and raincoats laid out to wear, we tried to catch a few hours of sleep before our early morning wake up call to the train station. The next update will be all about the do’s and don’t’s of camping at a music festival and the reunion with some of my London ladies.