Morning in Marlow With Winston

Oxford friends Lynn, Neal, and Winston The Bloodhound picked us up this morning for a drive to Marlow, a beautiful small town on the Thames River (56.75 miles to London, as the Thames flows).

When I asked how far back Marlow goes, Neal said "All the way." That's a long way back.

Winston The Bloodhound. Five years old. He was raised as a hunting dog, part of a pack of 21 bloodhounds. Winston would disappear on hunts, failing to return with the other 20 dogs. The trainers would eventually find him at neighboring farms, having tea with the residents. So he had to be adopted or put down. Neal and Lynn rescued him and he's now living the life of a retired scholar in Oxford. 

This church in Marlow, next to the Thames, dates back to the 12th century. Amazing what you can do if you use stone and stone masons, instead of the mud & straw adobe brick technique that was popular in the Santa Fe area at the same time. Stone seems so much more... what's the word... permanent.

Robin, Lynn, and Neal read a T.S. Eliot quote carved in stone.

Time past and time 

future

What might have been

and what has been

Point to one end which is always

present

Green and gold cemetery colors.

Neal and Winston experience the sights and smells of Marlow.

The bike/river trail through town winds through narrow passageways.

A bench along the river, in memory of Olive and Twig Branch. There's something sappy about this, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

The river has locks for boats that want to navigate up or downstream where water levels differ. The wheel opens the lock gates.

One of the locks on the river.

People who live on the river can hop in their boat and go all the way to London. Just like they have for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years. In 2010 the foundations of a large timber structure were found on the shores of the Thames in London (south of Vauxhall Bridge), dated to 4500 BC.

Winston does the bloodhound thing in the church cemetery.

Lynn and Neal drove us back to Uxbridge and let Winston out of the car before heading back home to Oxford. When they tried to coax him back into the car he resisted, then rolled over on his back for a tummy rub. What a Sweetie Pie. No wonder he didn't want to kill foxes or whatever he was supposed to hunt. He's a lover, not a killer.

Love This Guy

When I was in Robin's class, one of the students had a Shakespeare studies book with them. On the cover was a photo of Mark Rylance in a play on the Globe Theatre stage. 

Not many guys can wear something this green and still look cool. Respect, bro.

If you missed the earlier blog about Mark, check out the January 14 "Jerusalem" article, archived on the  right side of this page.

Wally & Maria just got back from a day in London, which included a trip to Harrod's and a couple of bottles of Harrod's wine. Which means a wine tasting event is imminent. A slow Saturday ends with a flourish! 

Compliments of Wally & Maria.

A Sunday Visit

Tomorrow morning our friends from Oxford, Lynn and Neal, are picking us up for a Sunday visit. I don't know what's on the agenda, but they're lots of fun, so I'm sure there'll be something blog-worthy and more exciting than today's agenda, which was pretty boring, consisting mostly of Internet researching, tea-making, and crumpet-toasting. A short while ago I switched to wine-sipping and Internet browsing. Things are looking up.

While Robin fought off the beginnings of a sore throat, I took a late afternoon walk into Uxbridge to ask the Mid-Eastern guy at the phone jail-breaking booth in the mall for advice on jail-breaking my new iPhone. Then I went to the Orange store (a phone carrier here) to ask about buying a micro sim card with a pay-as-you-go plan. It's all too boring and complicated to explain, but if I decide to attempt to jailbreak and unlock my phone, I'll update the results. Hopefully the worst that can happen is I jailbreak it but can't unlock it, then have to "restore" it to factory settings. Sounds fun.

Walking back to the flat after dark, I grab a shot of a man walking his dog. Our neighborhood of flats is just around the corner to the left, on the other side of the train overpass. 

Sketchbook Stuff

A few pages from the sketchbook.   

Paula, a student in Robin's class. Very nice, English, married to a Turk, and speaks Turkish (and English).

Robin in class, with lines 9 and 10 from Sonnet 81. But you knew that. I'm supposed to memorize all of Sonnet 81 by the end of the semester. I think I can do that, but not without some Strongbow cider and some extra study sessions at the pub.

Boats parked along the edge of the canal. Art Appreciation Tip: That's a sidewalk to the right of the boats, not water. And yes, those are boats. Hey! It was a fast sketch dangit. 

Not a ski resort, just the Brunel campus coffee shop. I'm coffee-shop-sketching while waiting for Robin to get out of a workshop. 

Sketch another student in the coffee shop, then it's time to go meet Robin after her workshop. 

Brunel campus photos

Tap dance class on the 1st floor of a campus building. I know, it looks like the 2nd floor, but here the 1st floor is called the Ground Floor and the 2nd floor is called the 1st floor. Wacky Brits.

Computers for students in the Lecture Centre. Notice the type on the glass says "Made in Brunel." Does that mean the glass? The building? The students? The computers? What exactly is made in Brunel. That is the question.  

The center of campus: The Hub (a pub), Student Centre, Library, Coffee Shop, Lecture Centre, convenience stores, bank, ATMs, and Computer Centre. 

British coins. Center coin: 2 pounds (worth about $1.26 the last time I converted American dollars a couple of days ago). 

Waiting for Robin. She had a special invitation (for PhD students) to a movie on campus, a comedy called The PhD Movie. I waited in this lobby area and sketched while she was in the movie. From her review, it sounds like it would have been funnier to watch me draw for 90 minutes. But she did get free popcorn.

Canal Reflections & Cajun Reflections

Being from Louisiana, I can assure you that Cajuns would love it here. Lots of canals, some people live on their boats, and there's pub access to the canals. On the negative side, I doubt the fishing and alligator hunting is as good as in Louisiana canals, and I didn't see any boat parties or hear any Zydeco music. But just a couple of Cajuns could fix that, I'm sure.

To open a lock you use the foot-holds for traction. Oops, here comes a boat... shoot the photo, Robin!

Now that I'm outta the way, a real boater unlocks the gears so he can crank open the gate.

Some boaters do seasonal parking and just stay here for the winter. Some of the boats have their engine idling and some have smoke coming out of stove pipes, which I assume is from a heater or stove inside.

There's nothing like cruising down the bayou, I mean canal, with your dog. And your home.

Canal reflections.

Robin reads her book while I grab some photos and sketch.

One guy maneuvered both of these boats under this bridge. Part Cajun, no doubt.

The Malt Shovel is right on the canal. A good place for dinner if you happen to standing here on the edge of the canal anyway. We made ourselves at home with a glass of cabernet and hot mulled Aspall's cider before dinner. The scampi shrimp was pretty satisfying too. Reminded me of Louisiana. And Cajuns.

The canal from The Malt Shovel. 

Robin relaxes with her book while I keep an eye on my pint of Strongbow cider. I mention cider a lot. I should also mention that it's very weak as alcoholic drinks go. It hasn't even gotten close to Robin having to take my shoes away to prevent me from walking.

The Malt Shovel bar. A family-friendly place, as evidenced by the man with his 8-year old daughter who I was in line behind.

It was getting dark when we left for the Brunel campus, just a 10-minute walk away.

Tomorrow we'll be grocery shopping in Uxbridge, and planning a weekend into London to visit it's largest and most famous cemetery, Highgate Cemetery, one of the "magnificent seven" Victorian cemeteries built in the early 1800s. Douglas Adams, George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans), and Karl Marx are among the dead celebrities found there.

You could soon be living here!

A daily reminder that we could soon be amongst the living here. Can't wait for that upgrade. 

Turn right at the sign, go under the train overpass (behind the sign), and you're headed towards the Uxbridge town centre, a 15 minute walk, give or take a pub or two.

The train going over the overpass in the background is the Metropolitan line, judging by the maroon color on the sides of the cars. Color-coded trains would be useful in Santa Fe, so you'd know if you're going to Lamy or Albuquerque. I'd recommend turquoise and blue-green.

The new office furniture for the Mermaid Tavern London Headquarters was delivered today. I wanted oak, but this is easier to move around.

We're considering a possible side trip to the southern coast of England, near Southhampton, where the National Transport Museum is located. Current exhibit: 50 original James Bond cars to celebrate 50 years of Bond movies. The Brits are strangely unaware about history in some ways, but very on top of it when it really matters. "Bond... James Bond" (with a Sean Connery accent, slightly muffled by a dangling cigarette). Of course, these plans could change if we decide there's another trip that's more culturally relevant than James Bond movies. Like Shakespeare, for example. Or almost anything else.