Given that it was built 4,500 years ago, it is quite amusing to listen to the indecisive musings of the curators and historians on the "why here"? It is pretty clear that Pagan worship was fundamental to the design with the summer and winter solstice being cornerstones, but what amazed us was that they managed to bring the stones 240 kilometres from Wales (probably by boat) and then dragged them up hills to this quite boring grassland. They then upended these up to 40 tonne rocks injected them into the ground and laid (what looked to me like) cricket bails on top. Herculean task. If the mood had taken me, I think I would have built my henge over in Wales!
Then an easy drive on to Oxford. We approached with anticipation of a studious and historic village, with homely looking pubs and willows weeping into the banks of the river with punting scholars serenading their belles. The reality was a little different as Sam announced that he was busting and absolutely couldn't wait so the male members of the party ended up in the staff toilets of a large electrical retailer in a somewhat industrial suburb of Oxford. We then got lost in the initially complex one way system of the town as we traversed to its northern side. Unfortunately we didn't see any villagey pubs, punting scholars or weeping willows as we made our way to our hotel.
After we settled and set off for an explore we realised that aside from being larger and more of a city than we were expecting, Oxford is the hardest place in England to get a park. We eventually got one in a pretty dodgy spot after a tense search and embarked on our most important goal of a leisurely punt on the river. I have prior experience of punting (I know what many of you may be thinking here, but I mean the one with poles and boats) and it was amusing, ending in one member of our party getting wet (not me) and a sense of humour failure for the balance of the day!
We navigated our way to the Magdalen Bridge, which is Oxford's punting central and we confidently and optimistically rented one for an hour. Michaela and Will were first aboard laying nervously at the bow, with Sasha and Sam amidships. I received some final flying instructions from the foppish working student and observing a couple of amateurs crashing into each other just offshore pushed off into the unknown. It wasn't long before Sasha and Sam were in tears fearing an early dunking, I nearly beheaded Will with an overhanging branch and the level of instruction from the back of the boat was exceeding the driving advice I had got earlier in the day. I blame the wind, but after pushing through under a bridge and then turning around a couple more times than I had intended my confidence had disappeared. As if by magic, a second foppish scholar appeared and upon the urgings of all of my family members I meandered our punt towards him and he took us home. We had been on the water no more than five minutes.
Astoundingly this must be quite common as our rental was exchangeable for a pedal boat which Will, Sam and I leapt into much more happily whilst Sasha and Michaela sought dry land and hot chocolate. This part of Oxford was truly spectacular with the magnificent chapels, buildings, playing fields and beautiful gardens around Christ Church and other colleges quite breathtaking. The boys wondered how many rugby balls would end up in the river as we pedalled our way along the waterways.
We then made our obligatory contribution to the local tourism industry with the purchase of the "Oxford University" emblazoned hoodies for our three aspiring scholars. I knew I was being striped by the local version of Terry and Arthur but got nowhere with my negotiating techniques! A late Chinese dinner and heavy sleeps for all after a memorable but at times stressful day! Looking forward to relaying our London blog next...
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