Oxford, part I

Punting. What do you think of when you hear the word ‘punting’ ? Well, if you are American, you probably think of a guy kicking a funny-shaped ball through a big white goal post.

If you are from Oxford, you think of propelling yourself lazily down a canal with a very long rod while standing in the back of a low, wooden boat.

Yes, I did that. I punted. I ate strawberries and punted. I felt very elitist.

Then I had discussions about the 12th century, Greek classics, and the identidy crisis experience by the Viking setters in northern France during the middle ages. I saw an outdoor performance of  ‘The Tempest’. And then I ate a sandwhich, with eggplants and goat cheese.

These are the kinds of things you do in Oxford. You hang out in old buildings and be scholarly. It is quite the life.

to be continued….


Sorry for the lack of updates, it has actually be quite ahrd to come by a computer as of late. I still have loads to write about England, but in case you are wondering, I am actually back in Sweden. And after a lot of last minute coincidences, a bit of luck, and one heck of an epic solo bicycle journey, I find myself on an organic farm 20 km north of Uppsala ( in Björkinge) weeding carrot fields to earn my keep and sleeping in my very own storage shed turned sleeping quaters down by the river (so I can commune with the water, according to Karin, the farmwife here).

It’s a long story, but I will try to keep it going chronologically, so we’ll finsih with england first before we get to Sweden. Maybe.

stay tuned. If anyone is still reading that is…


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