The City of a Thousand Walking Tours

I remember the last time I went to Oxford I was about to start my sophomore year of high school. It was summer, and the family was taking a day trip. I was struck by how crowded and busy the city seemed compared to Cambridge.

I returned last weekend, really for lack of anything else. I considered Liverpool for my free weekend, but Oxford seemed just as good. I traveled with another girl from the group, just for the security of another body. We left London from Paddington Station, and got to Oxford mid-morning. The plan was to drop out bags at the hostel, and then find out if I could make it into the C.S. Lewis-J.R.R. Tolkien walking tour. Thus began the weekend of walking tours.

Now, I am a fan of the aforementioned authors. I’m reasonably interested in seeing the places they worked. I expected with the recent release of film versions of “Lord of the Rings” and “Narnia” that this may be a fairly full tour. My ticket brought it to roughly ¾ capacity. Well, that’s fine; it’s early in the season! We arrived during exams and graduation! So off on our little tour.

Later that evening friend and I decided on the Ghost Tour. This was packed with people; ghost tours tend to be very well attended in my experience of tours, and this guy was really good. Not much to say about that, other than after the tour we ended up at the opening of the new Jamie Oliver Italian restaurant. Excellent experience and good food, although I normally shy away from celebrity chef places.

Now, the next day, which was the last day (brief excursion you see), friend wandered off to a Castle; I decided to skip the childhood home of Winston Churchill in favor of the “Inspector Morse” tour.

I am not particularly fond of Morse. There’s only one episode I really liked, and I tend to leave the room when the DVD sets come out. Imagine my surprise when I discovered the assembled horde of tourists waiting for the Morse tour. So many, in fact, that two sweet old ladies needed to be summoned from the Tourist Office to handle the group. We were split into two groups just under twenty each. I never imagined the popularity for the old detective; there were English, Scots, and Americans in my group, and although there was a trend towards a certain age, there were a few of us young’uns to shake things up.

And so I returned from Oxford, pausing briefly to see the Dodo. I realize this doesn’t sound terribly exciting. I really think I just walked for two days looking at the same buildings and hearing a different story about each one. But it’s nice to get away from London for awhile, even if the street were lined with glitter and other signs of celebration for the end of exams.