Failure to Launch, aka Travel Series: London and Oxford

So when our story last left off, Sara and I had decided not to go to Loch Lomond and instead had been fortunate enough to find Chris who had offered his spare room to us for a few days before we picked up our travels in Glasgow where we had left off. This sacrifice was a bit pricey but I was both daunted by the idea of needing to help Sara and being completely unqualified and unable to do so and the stress that doing reasonably strenuous physical exercise that hiking in mountains requires. I was optimistic, however, that we would make the most of things and be back on track for Easter weekend. How wrong I was.

The few days that we spent with Chris were what I would consider fairly docile. Sara and I would go out into the city of Oxford and spend time reading or working on upcoming assignments, followed by a brief picnic at Christ Church meadows (which Sara had never been to in her 6 months in Oxford) and various attempts to visit the Ashmolean (which never came to fruition). Sara's medications had the tendency to make her either dizzy, nauseated or tired, and as a result, we never stayed out for more than a few hours. I was not particularly bothered by this as I took the additional time to work (which I sorely needed to do) and catch up on television and do the one thing I never seem to do on these breaks which is relax. This relaxation took some tinge of nostalgia as I found out that Steam had put up all of the Humongous Entertainment point and click adventure games of my youth such as Freddi Fish and Spy Fox.

In the evenings, when Chris was home from work, we would watch different British shows, chat and eat dinner. I really enjoyed getting to know Chris more than I already did and was grateful for the increased company. Unfortunately, on a whole I was also frustrated by the extremely sedentary lifestyle that this pattern was creating. Sara wasn't up for much more than a couple hours of walking and even when I bore more of the weighted load, I was constantly struck by the number of hours that I would spend sitting on a coach in front of my laptop. Escapism that I enjoy but not nearly for as much time as I was engaging in it.

Good Friday was a bank holiday, and Chris had the day off, and so, he offered to take us to a stone circle that was outside of Oxford (about 30 minutes) that we had spoken of a few days before. It was a wonderfully picturesque view of the country side getting to see fields of yellow flowers of rapeseed. There are fields after fields of rolling hills and because of the lack of trees, you get a spectacular view of an endless expanse of rectangular plots of crops. We also saw a number of farm animals, and as it was spring many babies as well (including cowlets as Sara referred to them in a slightly drug induced state). The stone circle was both simple and impressive. The rocks which had been placed with some intention of a burial site were 6000 years old and the lore behind them was also enjoyable. The story was of a king who marched on the land with his troops. On his journey he came upon a witch who agreed to let the king pass if he could see the town of Long Compton in 7 strides which lay just beyond the next hill. The king agreed and was nearly over the hill with his last step, when the witch made the ground under his foot rise up preventing him from completing the task. The witch then promptly turned the king into stone and the witch turned herself into a Hawthorne tree. There is more to the area and I will include the wikapedia page describing the monument (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rollright_Stones).

The whole trip was lots of fun and shortly after we went to a nearby town store/farm/restaurant for lunch. There I had the best lamb burger that I have had in England which was perfectly seasoned and reasonably priced. We also had some homemade ice cream for desert. Feeling sufficiently spoiled after the trip, we returned to Oxford for a quiet afternoon.

The next morning, Sara and I made our way to London to pick up our bus to Glasgow, to pick up the flight to Dublin. We were on time to the bus station and ready to begin travelling for the remainder of our journey. The bus ride to Glasgow wasn't the most comfortable. The bus was crowded and besides occasional dozing, I felt as though I could not get comfortable. My discomfort level would ramp up 100 fold when I discovered that the bus was running sufficiently late. In planning to catch up with our route, I had left only 2 hours between the bus arrival and the plane taking off. I realized this was close but was optimistic that if we arrived to the station within 30 minutes of the arrival time, we could still make it. The problem was that the bus was not within that window but a grand total of 1 and 1/2 hours late. Sorely frustrated at the unnecessary stops and continued delays, we rushed to the airport to hopeful grab a new flight with minimal fees. This would not be the case however. The woman at the desk informed us that there were no more flights to Dublin for the evening and that to get onto the next flight, we would need to pay an exchange fee of £68 a piece. There were no more flights to London either, except for a British Airways flight that would cost £260 for the two of us. We sat the airport frustrated and angry and tired of sitting. Given our slightly dire financial straights, we resolved to return to London, where we could crash with a friend for a few days before coming back to Oxford to begin term. The downside (besides the obvious) was another 9 hour bus ride back to London.

We made our way back to the bus station and on the way saw the tardis (which lightened our spirits). The bus ride was not as bad as it could have been. The bus was empty and this allowed everyone two seats by which to lay down and sleep. I got a decent number of hours of sleep and was quite happy to see my good friend Heather again. Another friend of ours, Ben, was also staying with her. So the four of us met up and had dinner together for Easter. We spent the next two days doing some relaxing and trying to de-stress from the events of earlier that weekend. One of the days, we went out walking to find and recreate a picture that my aunt and uncle took during their time in London in 2011. We also had a picnic and did some reading at St. Paul's cathedral where we learned of a free evensong which we also attended.

The next day we would go to Oxford to meet up with Katie for one night before returning to our flats to move back in and start a new term back at Oxford. This morning, I woke up with so much joy and excitement, I wanted to leave as early as possible to reach the flat. On the way however, my laptop would make a tumbling fall to the floor of the bus, popping out the battery and part of the cover for the hard-drive. Fortunately, everything was fixed and once I was finally settled, I did the one thing that I had been missing over the last two weeks, a run.

During my run, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of home and joy at returning to a life that I really had enjoyed building for myself. Oxford is a gorgeous city and I love living so close to everything I need and still having beautiful nature to immerse myself in. I am excited to get back into the swing of things and begin term with all the archery, role playing society and of course tutorials. Returning to Oxford has made me so immensely happy and it is only twinged with sadness at the thought that once again my lifestyle is temporary and all the habits and things that make me happy will need to be recreated anew in a new place for another temporary time. Being in Oxford has made me realize the joy that can come from laying down routes and building a life for myself. It has only made me frustrated at my lack of continuity and routine that my life has to hold over the next 5-10 years. That being said, I have no intention to change my future goals or aspirations and recognize that it is an element of my youth that necessitates the frequent moving around that lays in my future. For now, however, I will live in this beautiful and wonderful moment. I look forward to seeing all my friends and participating in all my hobbies.

Until Next time,

Adventures Await!

KH

Travel Series: Isle of Man

*UPDATED WITH PICTURES*

The title this time is a bit deceiving as this blog post is a long time coming. I will divide this into two parts, the end of my time in the US and my travels back to the UK and then the Isle of Man trip. Part of the delay in posting is due to pictures, of which all have not yet been posted, so expect a picture update, so I hope the wait was worth it!

When I last wrote, I was still at Jewell, enjoying a little space from home. It was good to see all of my friends and I felt like the few days were a very productive use of my time. The way home, however, was torturous for many reasons. I decided to try and get home as early as possible, so that I could be with my parents before they left for vacation. So, I decided to split up my drive to Thursday night and Friday morning and spending the night at my cousin's house in St. Louis. The added bonus being seeing my cute little cousin Jackson, who I hadn't seen since he was a couple months old. The drive back to Indy was horrendous. There was a storm that came down fast and heavy and in near darkness, this lead to extremely hazardous conditions. I was only a half an hour from my first destination when I hydroplaned harsh and jerky circles on the interstate. Fortunately, I didn't end up in a ditch and there were no cars around through the entire event. My heart racing out of my chest, I kept driving and took a slightly slower pace (not that it mattered as it was not my speed but trying to switch lanes that led to the event). I was a bit shaken when I got to my cousin's but went to bed hoping the next day would be without rain. The morning was clear and I set off for a second time stopping only briefly for breakfast. It was this stop for breakfast that would turn into problem number two on this trip home. Before I had left Kansas City, my car had exhibited a strange symptom of struggling to turn the engine over when I turned the key. I chalked it up to something that needed to wait until I returned to Indy to deal with. Well, when I returned to my car after breakfast and tried to start the engine, it once again struggled to turn the engine on. Only this time, instead of slowly speeding up, it very quickly grumbled to a stop. I was stranded. I called my dad and we arranged for a jump, diagnosing the problem to a bad battery. Fortunately that was all that was needed and only resulted in an hour delay, but I was more than frazzled wanting nothing more than to go home. The remainder of the drive was thankfully uneventful and I made sure to get the battery fixed as soon as I returned to Indy.

The last couple of days at home in the US were actually quite peaceful. My parents had left for vacation and it was just me and my sister. Given that my sister had school and was old enough to entertain herself, I was left mostly to my own devices and for the first time in a while I actually did get to relax. I played videogames, watched the remainders of shows and began packing for my trip home. I was amazed by the speed at which the two and a half weeks had passed and the anxiety of being on the road again started to well in my stomach. After a fair well to my siblings and a Skype call to my parents while they sat on a beach side resort in Jamaica, I began another long trip to the UK.

My flight to the UK which spanned 12 hours of airtime and layovers was perhaps the most peaceful and easy flying experience I had over the Atlantic. The plane resembled the one I had taken on my first trip, but I had an empty seat next to me and no annoying children kicking my seat. The food was decent (as I was starving) and I did manage to snatch 1 hour of sleep before breakfast with relative comfort. I arrived at Heathrow and immediately made my way to London, which is when I encountered the first of two major problems so far.

It was about 8am London time and, as a result, rush hour. I took the tube into London with my big bag and back pack, with only the room to stand for the 45 minute train to central London from Heathrow. The train quickly filled up and about 20 minutes into the ride, we were packed in like sardines. To prevent myself from falling onto other people or my luggage over the course of the trip, I did the stupid thing and locked my knees. I felt myself growing hot and dizzy and resolved to get off at the next stop. Unfortunately I would faint before that next stop arrived. After things got a little dark, I felt a fellow passenger grab my arm. My instincts were that I was being assaulted, but then I remembered that I was planning to get off the train. The stop had just arrived and the kind man who had noticed me faint, helped me off with all of my things. The security/emergency staff came over to me, got me some water, and waited with me until I felt better. The chilled spring air quickly cleared my head and after some light conversation, the staff got me a seat on the next train and gave me directions to where my friend's flat was.

The rest of the short journey was uneventful and I made sure to have a quick breakfast with my friend, before leaving my excess luggage with her and moving on to meet up with Sara and Sarah. With a UK phone and therefore, easy communication, I found my way to Sarah's house fairly easily and we would enjoy a relaxed evening of food and catching up before our trip to the Isle of Man the next morning.

So one of the benefits to going home was that I got to visit William Jewell and have my advising meeting. Not so fortunate was that registration for classes was at 10pm Central which translated to 4 am UK time. Luckily, we, Sara and I, already needed to get up early to make a bus to Oxford to meet up with everyone to get to the Isle of Man. So getting up a little earlier was not too much of a hardship, Sara and I successfully registered for classes, had a light breakfast and made our way, with Sarah, to Oxford to meet up with the team and the minibus.

Getting to the Isle of Man is a bit of an ordeal. From Oxford, the port was about a 3 and 1/2 hour drive, but we stopped along the way twice to pick up additional archers. The minibus was eventually full of luggage, bows and people alike. Having had no more than 6 hours of sleep in the last 72 hour period, I snatched a few hours of sleep on the bus with the faint sounds of music and chatter in the background. The ferry across to the Isle of Man was a little nicer than the Ferry I had taken to the mainland of Europe twice now and we all huddled at the bar on the ship, playing card games like Egyptian Rat Skrew or Uno and enjoying the salty sea air on the top deck. We were also presented with our Isle of man shirts which were blue polo shirts with individualized nicknames on the back. I received the nickname "flapjack?", because of my regular role as flapjack supplier for competition and 6 am practice, also I make damn good flapjacks. The other names echoed similar humorous truths such as 100% terrorist, Squad Groupie, Government Agent, J-Dizzle, Sub-Zero among others, each with their own inside jokes and stories.

We arrived on the Island and were quickly driven to the hotel where we would be staying for the next 3 nights. Sara, Sarah, and I were put in a three person room, which was quite spacious. The hotel was also beach front property and the island as we could see it was quite beautiful. Everyone met up in the lobby and those who had signed up to go to a commemorative dinner left while the remainder of us, Jack, the Sara(h)s and I went to find other options. After grabbing some Manx money (as Isle of Man is a common wealth and not a member of the UK), we grabbed a nutritious dinner of pizza and chips along with some vodka and mixers. The night was full of joyful shenanigans playing the Game of Thrones drinking game and bonding us closer together. This night would be only one of many which made this trip some of the most fun I have had in awhile.

We went to bed fairly early as we had to get up early the next morning for our first day of shooting. So at 7am, the four of us bright and bushy eyed and not hung over despite what the rest of the those who had come to check on us the night before may have expected went to breakfast, piled onto a bus with our bows and went to the competition hall. The first round of shooting was a Fita 25, which is shot at 25 meters from a 60 cm face. There were two rounds of practice and then 20 ends of 3 arrows alternating between two groups of two archers on each boss. This was the first time I had shot this type of archery round and it was also the farthest distance I had ever shot. The hall had 17/18 bosses and archers from Loughborough, an alumni group called Prism, and Liverpool were in attendance besides Oxford reaching a total of about 60-65 archers of either Recurve, Compound, Longbow or Bare-bow style. The atmosphere in the hall was quite jovial and friendly and it quickly became clear that the point of the tournament was more socialization than serious shooting. The relaxed atmosphere served me well and I shot decently getting a score of 444/600 for my first time at that distance. We went out for lunch and began shooting again for the afternoon. The afternoon round was a Fita 18 which is 18 meters with a 40 cm face. The same number of arrows shot in the same intervals as the morning session. 120 arrows doesn't seem like much, but by the end of the afternoon I was quite sore. I did a little worse with a score of 430/600. My one goal for the tournament was to beat Jack (he often shoots better than me), a fellow team mate and male novice, on one round. After day one, I hadn't accomplished my goal, but I was optimistic.
(There are none of me shooting but, here is what the range looked like!)

The toll of the shoot was a little worse on Sara than most others. Having a chronic problem of popping ribs out of place, the shooting and her current out rib interacted horribly and left her in pain and struggling to breath properly. They took her to the A and E (essentially the ER) and a doctor kindly popped her rib back in.

Everyone gathered at the hall for some post shooting shenanigans and then we went to dinner at a "Tex Mex" place on the island for dinner. The "Tex Mex" place was a tragic misrepresentation of what a Tex Mex restaurant actually is in the States. I mean there was lasagne on the menu and it really represented a hodge podge of American foods and some Mexican dishes. Sara and I shared the Nachos which was good and some mozzarella sticks. Deciding that cheap drinks from a grocery store in the 3 person room was a better choice than a seedy pub, we retired to the Sara(h)s' and my room for a night of chatting and drinking.

                                      
Taking a slightly later start to the next morning, the team left once again for the archery hall for another full day of shooting. Sara was still a little shaky and doped on a very strong pain killer that they had prescribed for her the night before and so she opted to take a nap through the day. The round for the morning was a Worcester which is 20 yards with a 40 cm face that is divided into 5 sections instead of ten with only the centre white and the rest black or dark grey. This time it was 12 ends of 5 arrows each alternating between two groups of archers. I think I prefer Worcester faces to the other faces. Colours are distracting. I shot really well and it quickly became clear that I could easily overtake the experienced archery shooting with me from club. By the last 10 arrows, I was 10 points down (having a had a few bad ends) and resolved to shoot as many fives as possible. I must have unlocked beast mode, because despite sore muscles, I shot 8/10 arrows in the 5 spot. Despite that, I fell 1 point short of defeating the experienced archer. I was feeling fairly giddy by the end of it though, super charged by the good shooting. My score was a 245/300 which is quite good for a novice. I also defeated Jack by a good 9 points. I was feeling pretty successful. After a short lunch, we started the head to heads.

So tournament style, we were all given a seed based on our combined total for the 3 previous shoots. I seeded 31 and my first match was with the 34 seed. Head to heads are shot in ends of 3 on the Fita 18 set up. Each round the scores are counted up and you get 2 points for a win, 1 point for a draw and 0 points for a loss. There are 5 ends and first to 6 points wins. If you are tied at the end, then you do a one arrow shoot off with the winner being the one who's arrow is closest to the centre. I had never done a head to head but I was surprised just how nervous I was. I had never been this nervous on the line. My first end was not very good and I conceded two points. Then I calmed down and over the next to ends took it home to get four points. This was the point that I let my head get to me. I introduced over thinking into my form and my scores plummeted. Unfortunately, I lost overall. I shook the hand of my opponent with no hard feelings as we both knew that no matter what, either of us would lose the next round to the number 2 seed. I was still struck with an overwhelming sadness though. With this loss, I was done shooting for the whole tournament. This tournament had been some of the most fun I had had shooting since I began. I still wanted to shoot despite the aching limbs and mental fatigue, all I wanted to was to loose more arrows at a target. This feeling only expanded as I realized that I would never be in a tournament with these people in this setting for this long again. I watched the remainder of the tournament, one of our team's archer's taking the compound and recurve firsts, but I sat in sadness. After everyone was done shooting, we took plenty of group photos and returned to the hotel.

We wandered the town for a bit and had dinner before going to the results at the pub that was part of the hotel. To my surprise, they did have a novice women's recurve category and given that oxford was the only team that brought novice women (of which there were three of us) we each placed and I took home the gold! The rest of the team had good showings and after sad speeches were given about the end of the tournament in general (this was the last year), we retired to a different pub for drinking and socializing. Much fun was had, that included boat races, drinking games, and good conversation and laughter. Unfortunately, the pain in Sara's back only grew worse. The muscles in her back and shoulder began spasming wildly and a group took her back to the A and E to take a look. She got back to the hotel late, still in pain with little help from the medical staff. We all made an attempt to sleep in the next morning though the animals outside our windows which we think included angry seagulls and a dying fox kept us up. We grabbed breakfast before checking out for a day trip to Peel castle.

The trip to Peel was uneventful taking about a 45 minutes drive, except for the minibus having to manoeuvre around an extremely tight corner on the tiny streets. We walked around the castle and I was stunned by the beauty of it all. After a short escapade around the castle, we went to the nearby beach and grabbed some ice cream. The ice cream was delicious and relatively cheap. We then proceeded to make a giant sand castle on the beach with a magnificent moat and a nice stone wall. Unfortunately the tide was going out rather than in and our moat was suffering a bit of a drought, but it was still impressive. Of course, once you make a sandcastle the next step is to destroy it. Taking our remaining rocks we pelted the walls and then charged as a brief game of king of the hill ensued. By the time we were done a mound of sand remained. The weather wasn't super warm but it was the nicest we had had all weekend and the sun was out. We went to lunch and then returned to the beach for frisbee and games. I did have ice cream a second time later that afternoon.

Sara was still in pain and one final attempt was made to get her help. She took it easy but it was clear that she would need to be near medical attention over the next couple days. There was no way we were going to be able to travel to a remote (relatively speaking) park and do vigorous hiking. Just no way that we would enjoy it either. So, I talked to Sara and suggested that we not go and instead hang out in Oxford until our flight to Dublin at the end of the week. She didn't want to agree but she knew that I was right.

As the afternoon came to a close, we needed to return for the evening ferry back to the UK and the 3 and 1/2 hour drive to Oxford. All of us were exhausted having had so much fun throughout the entire trip. Much sleep was had on the bus and when we weren't sleeping we were doing the stereotypical Oxford thing of doing crossword puzzles. We arrived in Oxford at half past three in the morning and two of our fellow archers, Annie and Jack, kindly allowed Sara and I to crash until we could figure out our next plan of action.

The whole Isle of man trip was a blast and so much fun. The team got much closer and I was once again reminded that it was the people that have made my time at Oxford so great. I also learned that, as I suspected, I enjoy travelling in a large group. There is more security and more joy to be had. I also loved the shooting side of it all and it only reaffirmed my love for archery. I love Oxford University Company of Archers. They are wonderful people and they have made my time in Oxford so amazing. I will shed many tears to say good bye to the team.

The next day, I put out a call to arms to find a place for Sara and I to crash for the next couple of days. Within the first 10 minutes of the post going live on the role playing society page, I got 3 offers. I was filled with another love for the other group that I have become so close to. The role playing society was so generous and I was reassured that the friendships I had made among them were true ones. I was relieved to have a place to stay and overwhelmed by the kindness I have been shown here in Oxford. As this last term approaches quickly I mourn what little time I have left, but I pray that despite distance all of these friendships will last and that this year will not be our last moments together.

More on Oxford later. Until then,

Adventures Await!

~KH

Familiarity

So, I have been home for nearly 2 weeks and it has flown by faster than I could have anticipated. With it brought a surprising lack of culture shock. I have felt nothing but rushed and surprisingly stressed even though consciously I recognize that this is the first time in awhile that I have been able to take a breather.

My flights home were long and largely uneventful. I think I am used to long transport and by the time I got to New York, I was surprised by how natural and familiar everything was. I stepped on the plane back to Indianapolis and it felt as though I could have been jumping on a flight from Kansas City to Indianapolis (one I have done many many times). Fortunately customs and all of my luggage travelled with me and safely and was there upon arrival in Indianapolis.

Seeing my family was a rush of emotions. I was so happy to see them and at the same time struck by the familiarity. Had I really been gone that long. This wasn't new or weird, it was as though I had never left. My first meal back home was a burger because well, that is certainly something that the UK hasn't impressed me with and I was quickly brought up to date with everything that had happened at home and in Indianapolis.

It is about this time that the challenges of being away from a long period of time presented themselves. Over the next two weeks, I would be asked repeatedly about my experiences abroad and I would be faced with the difficulty of compressing and distilling that experience into a manageable bite. Would I talk about daily life in Oxford or the multitude of cities I had visited. Would I focus on the social and emotional challenges and joys, the cultural exchanges. It often left me feeling dissatisfied as I could only give the most general of statements or would rush to move the conversation away from my experiences.

Over the next couple days I would try to return to some semblance of my old life and I would be reminded why the life I had made in Oxford was infinitely better. Food was more natural and less modified, everything was in walking distance, I had many friends who were easily accessible and I was less cluttered by all the technology which encouraged reclusive behaviour. I was also disappointed to find that despite feeling healthier, all my travels may not have been better for my weight. Even the weather was disappointing, as I stepped off of the plane, after 60 degree weather on a beach in Barcelona, to be greeted with snow and cold.

I made the effort and met up with old friends and it really was pleasurable to see them and catch up. I found an archery range and the people running it were more than kind and helpful, but the location was a good hour drive away. I got to see my aunts and uncles whom I had sorely missed and was able to eat at some of the restaurants that I missed. My parents had gotten membership at a gym and despite my weight gain I quickly realized that I was at the peak of my health so far, running a 5K on my first day at the gym.

But the time continued to race by and I became increasingly stressed. I took a few days and made the 7 hour drive to my college and for a few days some of the stress lessened. I got to see my best friend, whom I missed dearly, and got to catch up with professors and plan some of my senior year. I may even have a job for next year (during the year) as a tutor. It was also the first time that I was forced to sit down and do some of the work that was jumped on me over this break and was even able for the first time in two years, donate blood (which always makes me feel good).

So what did going home teach me? I don't want to go back to my old routines. Despite regularly exercising at the gym, I feel less healthy and more concerned about my weight and health than I ever had at home. Part of this is because the cities I am living in are not conducive to an active lifestyle. I am going to seek my future home to encourage productive walking and greater emphasis on outdoors. I am going to seek those communities that make Oxford an enjoyable place to live and make extreme efforts to find foods that are not laden with all of the salts and fats that I have come to realize saturate the American markets. The foods that sustain me will hopefully be healthier and in turn make me feel better about myself. My hobbies and the things I love need to be closer as well. It is taxing to lose 2 hours of your life driving to the archery range, or having to drive 7 hours to see close friends. So maybe I am wrong. All of this most certainly is a little bit of culture shock, but I wouldn't say it is due to disparate cultures between the US and the UK. This is me confronting the reality of the way I was living and forcing me to implement the changes such that all the lessons I learned while abroad can be applied to make me a much healthier and happier person. I don't regret coming home and am still grateful for the breathes and breaks that it provided me. It also has made me more excited for this coming year and the new challenges I face. I look forward to returning to Oxford and particularly the Archery Isle of Man trip coming up.

Until next time,

Adventures Await!

KH