....and that's a wrap!

Greetings from Paris! I'm currently on a post-exam tour of the Continent (think of it as the poor (wo)man's Grand Tour), where I'm planning on hitting up France, Germany, Sweden and possibly also Norway in the next two weeks. Wait, you say, aren't you just revisiting the same spots that you saw exactly a year ago, and in the same order too? Yes and no. Gothenburg and Oslo will be brand-new to me, but as for Paris, Baden-Württemberg and Berlin...well, I happen to like revisiting old haunts and seeing my friends again. Makes everything more relaxing and comforting. 

But! Before I left for the Continent - which was this afternoon, actually - much has happened in Oxford since my last entry. Namely: I. FINISHED. MY. EXAMS.

*cue hysterical tears of relief and happiness*

Well, to be cautious I shouldn't count my eggs before they hatch, because the last exam went awfully and the marks don't come out for another week. So, really, I should be keeping my fingers crossed and coming up with contingency plans and whatnot.

In reality, though, my thoughts are more along the lines of "THANK THE LORD THIS ORDEAL IS DONE I CAN NOW SLEEP AND EAT AND BREATHE NORMALLY ONCE AGAIN WITHOUT WAKING UP IN COLD SWEAT AND THE PARALYSING FEAR OF FAILURE!!!" In all seriousness, I had never been so stressed in my life. Something about the place, and the exam format, and the pressure of it being, ya know, bloody Oxford just drove me up the wall. I was quite honestly losing my mind.

However, that is all behind me now. (Unless I failed that last exam, but apparently it is incredibly difficult to fail the BCL/MJur? Why yes, do allow me to put that to the test!) As I walked out of the Exam School on that fateful June the 28th two-thousand-and-twelve, I was calm, composed, ready to deal with the fallout from a potential failure, but also incredibly relieved and exhausted.

And then I got trashed. Massively, messily, wonderfully trashed. By that lovely and highly enthusiastic bunch of people that I call friends.

Due to the dwindling number of exams, they took away the barricade on Merton.
Hence, people congregated in front of the Exam School, waiting to pounce of their 
poor, unsuspecting friends. 

CASE IN POINT. (Yes, that is me covered in silly string.)

"Somebody give me a huuuug!!!"

But my friends didn't stop at just silly string. Oh no.
Bring on the confetti, champagne, luau and more confetti! 

And by champagne, I mean that the stuff THEY POURED IT DOWN MY SHIRT.

This pictures captures my and S's relationship perfectly.

At some point, cupcake frosting got involved...? (It was S's fault.)

"I'm a champagne/confetti/silly string/frosting covered
Hildabeast who probably smells awful, whee!"

You'd think that this would it be, right? Like, barring duct-taping me to a park bench, WHAT ELSE COULD THEY DO?

And then, M, who finished 45 min after me, walked out. 

SO IT HAPPENED ALL OVER AGAIN. (Just so you know, 
I'm still finding confetti two weeks later. On my clothes, in my
 bag, on my floor. Even in my shoes. Everywhere.

M and I comparing battle - erm, confetti scars. Erm, tattoos.
Because, it turns out that confetti + champagne = dyes that transfer
 and stick to your skin. Ah, things that you find out during trashings.

"WHOHOO!!! We are done! OMG! Let's pose for some--"

-- OH GOSHDARNIT.

So yeah. All in all, an epic and prime specimen of fine Oxford exam trashing. A+ for effort, enthusiasm and execution. (People looked at M and I a bit funny while we were walking back to our houses to shower and change.) Regardless of how well or badly I did in those exams, I will always have the memories - not the mention the tremendous dry-cleaning bill - of my trashing.

So thanks guys. Honestly. From the bottom of my heart.

A Roman Holiday

In a continuous attempt to escape the English rain (bloody hell, just stop raining already!), I decided to take a week-end trip to Italy this last week-end. No, it wasn't entirely impromptu, and yes, I will miss ridiculously cheap cross-continent airfare once I leave. 

Destination? The Eternal City. Approximate flight time from Birmingham to Fiumicino? 2.5 hours. Time I actually spend at Birmingham International? A whopping 9.5 hours. It had to do with not nearly enough buses going from Oxford to BHX, something about "technical issues" with Monarch Airlines, departing at 12pm instead of 7am, plus an surprise stop at Milan Malpensa on the way. It was horrid, I don't want to talk about it, and I'm never flying with Monarch. Ever. Again. (The flight back was mildly better with "only" a 1.5 hour delay and aboard an supposedly "last-minute" Air Finland plane.)

Unsurprisingly, Air Finland's safety cards are written in Finnish...

Although, perhaps my flight delay was a (tortuous, miserable, inhuman) blessing in disguise because I landed in Rome just as a city-wide transportation strike was ending. I would have been stuck once the airport bus dropped me off at Termini, staring at the chaotic traffic and unwilling to take a Roman taxi. There is something to be said about Italian chaos, however, in that I found it strangely comforting and relaxing. I swear that as soon as I set foot on Italian soil I instantly felt 300% less stressed and more patient. Was there an essay that I had to write, or books that I had to read? Pfft, domani, domani. 

Arriving at Termini. Blaring car honks and flexible car lanes, I've missed you!

My goals for this trip were pretty simple. Get some sun, eat obscene amounts of Italian food, hang out with my friend D (I had previously visited her in Rome last year - it rained almost the whole time, alas), and generally enjoy la dolce vita. And so, I did. Stupid flight delays shall not get in the way of such noble goals!

Fountain of Trevi - March 2011 v. May 2012. I threw a coin in last time to
help me make it back to Rome; I guess it worked!

Adventures in the Emerald Isle

Honey, I'm home! 

Just got back from an amazing 10-day trip in Ireland. I went over to Dublin for St-Patrick's with a bunch of Oxford friends and ended up staying...an extra week after that. Saw Dublin, Wicklow County and Galway. Took day trips to the Cliffs of Moher (amaaazinggg!!!) and the Aran Islands (also amaaaazinggg!!!). There was much pubbin', Guinness-in', dancin', hikin' and even bikin' (me and physical activity...who'd have thought!). The vistas were great, the cities so much fun and the people incredibly friendly. Even the weather was great -- I somehow managed to get a teensy bit sunburned biking around the Aran Islands on my second-to-last day there! I already miss the rolling green Irish hills and the live traditional music bands in pubs. Aaaah. I might have fallen in love with the Erin. Just a little bit.

Hopefully I'll get around to doing some more in-depth posts about my trip, but in the meantime, here, have some pictures!

And the adventure beings! Our "ferry" (cruise ship!) over to Ireland.

Goodbye Hilary!

...and good riddance, I say!

Hilary (aka. Hellary) has been a heck of a term. Too many seminars that I could count, Jurisprudence tutorials going full steam, more reading lists than I knew what to do with...I'm glad that it's over - for now -, that's for sure. Somewhere along the way, there were also exchange dinners, the Union Ball, Guest Night (post upcoming), potlucks (homemade dumplings for Chinese New Year!) and a few trips to London. Then my family came to visit me last weekend, which was wonderful and exhausting and emotionally bittersweet. I took them on a tour of Oxford and we had a great time at Fortnum&Mason's in London. Finally, fencing simply stopped happening (again, which means that I won't be taking it up again in Trinity Term), but I did pick up the violin in time to join my college orchestra for their end-of-semester concert last Tuesday. We played Handel's Messiah, and despite my section's sudden inability to count beats during the concert, the audience and I had a great time.

Took the family to see Christ Church--on an increasingly frequent sunny day!

My family's visit in a snapshot: my mother trying to use
an SLR camera, and my brother being bored. 

Piccadilly Circus at night.

Tea and ice cream at Fortnum&Masson's Parlour.

My haul from F&M. Those biscuits lasted exactly one night of essay-writing. 

So, as of Friday evening, I am officially on Easter break and have a full six weeks of glorious vacation before Trinity Term starts. Perfect for enjoying the increasingly sunnier and warmer weather, and for...writing Jurisprudence essays? Oh yes. My entire Jurisprudence course (you know, the one I whine about all the time?) is to be assessed on the basis of three essays which I have to turn in on April 20th. Thus I have exactly five weeks to ponder those essay topics, do some intellectual heavy-lifting and magically submit three, fully thought-out philosophy papers. Hah bloody hah.

I am convinced that going to Ireland next Friday for St-Patrick's can do nothing but inspire me to have some deep...erm...philosophical thoughts. With a lot of Guinness. And lucky four-leaf clovers? Hmm. A bunch of us are going from Oxford and staying with our Dubliner friends, so I am very much looking forward to this trip! I'm also keen to visit Belfast and Giant's Causeway, and in an ideal world I'd squeeze in some travelling to France and Spain as well during the break, plus a few more day trips to London and around England...

Ah, Spring. You always bring out the wanderluster in me.

The land of sauna, fika and Ikea

First off:

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year! 

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season, and may 2012 bring nothing but the best! 

Secondly: SWEDEN was wonderful. I was there for 5 days, visiting my friend S and celebrating the holidays with her family. (S and I met during our exchange semester to Paris earlier this year and I had already visited her this summer. Her family generously extended the invitation to spend Christmas with them after learning that I wouldn't be going back to Canada.)

Hello, again. View on Gamla stan (the Old City) in daylight.

Stockholm in winter remains as wonderful and interesting as ever. I completely fell in love with the city when I first visited it in July (pictures on my FB here), and I continue to find the place fascinating and enjoyable.The weather this year was incredibly mild (easily +4C on most days) and the infamous Nordic darkness didn't bother me nearly as much as I had feared. Sure, there's about 4 hours of daylight and the sun sets around 2:30pm, but compared to the ever-grey Oxford where the sun sets at 3:30pm...it's really not that bad. The darkness didn't make for a lot of pictures, though. (That, and the fact that I kept forgetting my camera, erm.)

View on Gamla stan and the South harbor in the evening (ie. 5pm).

Overall it was a very quiet and relaxing trip, with both S and I battling colds and residual post-semester fatigue. We spent a lot of time at her parents' house up in the suburb of Akersberga, meeting her extended family and going to the sauna. We also went into Stockholm a few times to hang out with S's friends, some of whom I have met last time and actually remembered me! We also went shopping (hellooooo H&M), saw the Nick Brandt exhibition at the Photography Museum and walked around Gamla stan, taking in the holiday decorations and breathing the fresh Nordic sea air. Aaah.

In the streets of Gamla stan.

S's parents' house in the countryside. You can see how close it is to the lake!

One of my favourite things about Stockholm is its food. Wholesome, delicious and entirely underrated. Also, they have this wonderful thing called fika, which is basically coffee or tea with some cakes or sandwiches to nibble on. It sounds straightforward, but it's a veritable institution in Sweden and: a) their coffee is amazing (Scandinavians are the biggest coffee drinkers in the world), and b) their breads and cakes are fantastic. Aaaah, fikaaaa.

Traditional Swedish Christmas food. There's A LOT of herring involved!

Fika at the Photography Museum: orange juice, latte and cinnamon buns!

We also went back to Hermans, which is a WONDERFUL
vegetarian buffet whose food I dream about weekly.

Other notable events from this trip include: me going to the wrong terminal at Heathrow; my continuing love/hate relationship with S's family cat, Zlatan; slipping on the wooden deck of the sauna after a dip in the icy-cold lake (and getting worried looks from old, naked Swedish ladies); and finally starting to learn the Swedish language the day before I left. Ah, Sverige. I miss you already. 

Quelle forte aventure!

I've been back -for a few days now- from my wonderful vacation to Fuerteventura, in the Canary Islands. My friend M (the same one who celebrated her birthday with a 20's theme) and I wanted a few days of sun, sea and Spanish food to get away from the Oxford stress and English weather. We got exactly what we wanted and couldn't have been happier. 

(A tip for future travelers though: Rent a car to get around, or else you'll walk around for hours in the dark looking for the hostel and be then left to the mercy of buses -- or guaguas, as they call them on the island!) 

We went, we breathed in the fresh ocean air and got slightly sunburned.
IT WAS AMAZING.

Seasonal blues

Il fait froid et humide (toujours cette maudite humidité!), le ciel est éternellement gris et le soleil, lorsqu'il en a, se couche à 15h. En plus, malgré touts mes précautions (écharpes au pluriel, gants, tisanes au gingembre et citron), j'ai réussi à attraper un rhume. Mal de gorge, mal de tête, les yeux qui coulent...ouais, ça va super bien pour faire mes lectures.

Et dire qu'il faisait tellement beau et ensoleillé mes premières semaines ici. Quelle fausse publicité!

Oh Oxford, pouquoi tu ne peux pas ressembler à ça tout le temps?

Si seulement il faisait assez beau pour aller faire du punting...

Mon cercle d'amis non anglais (les Anglais sont fous pour adorer ce genre de climat) et moi-même sommes tous en trian de déprimer collectivement. Solution? Pourquoi pas organiser un séjour à Fuerteventura, dans les îles Canaries, à la fin du semestre? Les billets d'avions coûtent 48 livres (merci RyanAir) et il y fait 20 degrés au mois de décembre. 20 degrés!!! Et tout gros plein de soleil sub-tropical. Hmmm. HMMM.

J'ai très très très hâte. (Photo prise d'ici). 

Décompte officiel: 18 jours avant l'océan, les montagnes, la plage et, Dieu merci, DU SOLEIL!

Une interlude parisienne

Monday night I snuck away to Paris for a quick overnight trip. Ostentatiously it was to retrieve the luggage I left there after last semester (coats, boots, books, etc.). Unofficially, of course, it was to indulge in some pseudo-Erasmus nostalgia and eat as much French food as humanly possible in less than 24 hours.

Paris la jolie. Ne change jamais!

From the moment I got off at Gare du Nord and stepped into the smelly rush hour metro, it all felt as if I never left. The people, the sights, the smells, the air...all was so dear and familiar to me. Elbowing commuters and rudeness and all.

But then again, I imagine that 800 year-old Gothic
cathedrals tend to not change very much over time...

The good parts of the trip: I got my luggage, saw my old neighbour C (who generously kept my luggage while I was gone), caught up with my friend C whom I hadn't seen in two years and was on exchange there (she also let me crash at her place for the night, yay!), had a proper (French) meal, had some real pains au chocolat, was wholly  nostalgic and duly appreciative of my wonderful time there.

The not-so-good parts: Parisians don`t help you with your luggage, even if you`re a small Asian girl trying to drag 25kg through the cursed escalator-less metro, and the trip back was a complete disaster (train was held back at the entrance of the Chunnel, had to brave London rush hour road and tube traffic, got lost trying to find my bus station near Baker Street, computer and cellphone ran out of battery).

I've missed meals like this! Steak tartare, charcuterie, fresh
 Parisian baguette and a 2 Euro glass of  Cote du Rhône. <3 

Anyway, it was overall a necessary and fruitful trip. My group of friends here and I are thinking of maybe organizing something in the springtime. (St-Hilda Hooligans take over Paris? Bring it on!) Also, the trip made me realize how easily I got un-used to traveling all the time. I guess last semester (6 months, 14 cities and 20-something train and plane rides) really was exceptional.

Another familiar sight: London St-Pancras Station.