Lone Traveler

There are no days that I regret traveling alone. There are, however, some days I regret traveling with a crowd, and given the choice, I would rather be the lone traveler who sees the world uninterrupted by those who cannot decide which avenue to take. While I am not the most adventurous of the bunch, I enjoy taking time to take in everything, down to the minute details. I don’t need to go terribly far in a foreign land to find a new adventure of sorts.

The Bar/Pub Scene...

In America, I cannot simply meander into a pub or a bar as a single woman and do my homework over a scotch or lager without attracting the attention of individuals who presume that I was at such an establishment because I was somehow “loose.” Here, I can walk down the street to any pub (I have my favorites) and drink in peace without rude or presumptuous intrusions. I am learning about the different locations – Oxford being amongst the more permissive of the places where I am left alone or am free to strike up a conversation without innuendoes that I would very much prefer to avoid. Ireland was different though. I got hit on by so many drunk and sober men that I found myself wanting to return back to Oxford by the end of my one week there.

It would seem that some places are not ready for women going into bars or pubs alone, or women taking on the role of a lone traveler. Most of the men I encountered in Ireland (in pubs, cafes, and hostels) asked me how it was that I, as a “beautiful woman,” could travel alone … "didn’t men (like them) constantly and incessantly bother me?" I smiled and knew they were answering their own questions. By the end of my week in Ireland, I found myself staying in the hostel at nights, having purchased a couple of large cans of Guinness along with a sandwich or some strange concoction that many convenience stores sell for weary travelers like myself.

However, in Oxford, I find many who are like me who simply stop off at coffee shops or pubs and are left alone, save a friendly conversation here and there – always welcoming of my presence. Also, in London, I went to a pub/restaurant and the server there was more than cordial. We talked about where she was from, and she gave us helpful ideas of where to go while traveling there. They actually have a pub map that connects various unrelated pubs onto a “go five times/to five noted places and get the sixth one free” model which I found refreshing. Alas, I don’t seem to have the time or money to take them up on their offer, but if I did, I surely would do so!

The Friends Scene...

While I enjoy the one-on-one company of others, I enjoy just taking my time and not rushing off to the next new thing. I don’t think I’ve ever been in that much of a hurry. Instead, I enjoy just taking in everything – every innuendo of a place; I enjoy imagining myself as part of that place or establishment as if I lived there. The experience of knowing that I have a place to go home to – here – makes the experience more enhanced. That I can walk around and mosey through the various shops freely or visit an internet café at the hefty price of one pound makes me happy. That I can walk to anything that is integral to my life makes me feel incredibly privileged. Back home in Los Angeles, I have to drive everywhere, and that makes me incredibly unhappy.

It’s nice to mix and mingle with friends in this land abroad, but my greatest satisfaction is in the conversations, the background intonations of different languages and accents, the various cultures intermixed, the random conversations with local and foreign others, and the ambiance that Oxford and the greater U.K. provide that enhances the one-on-one interactions. Perhaps because I am older, I don’t have a sense of urgency in all things and places. My urgency rests in the here and now in whatever I am engaged in at the moment, whether it is a conversation with a friend, writing this piece, or studying for my classes in a pub. I don’t like the question, “So what do you want to do now?” It suggests an inability to be in the “here and now” and misses the point of being abroad for me. I suppose it could be argued either way that life is too short to not take in as much as possible – to (a) take in as many countries and pubs as possible, or to (b) take in as much of one thing as possible to incorporate one’s existence into its existence. For better or worse, I am the latter. Too often, I find that people are rushed and wanting too much of any given moment.

I have decided that my study abroad program is not a time to go everywhere all the time or to do every conceivable action until I drop dead with exhaustion at the end of it. For me, the best moments are about taking in a variety of sights and scenes, while at the same time, taking time to reflect on the highlights of each day. The little things are what stand out for me: cobblestone roads, color building-fronts, brick buildings, very small cars, the sound of the various languages, or watching other people watch me. If “Plan A” doesn’t pan out, then it’s not a loss because I am in a new place, surrounded by new and unfamiliar things – things I could only imagine before. So it’s always a win-win situation.

Take a Deep Breath… 28 March 2009

Every day, wherever I am here, in the UK, I have to remind myself that I am not dreaming. I don’t mean to sound corny about it, but there is so much richness and history here, and the architecture is beautiful on a grand scale. Whether I’m walking to school, or meandering on an off day, I’m constantly reminded of this very different world – as if to be in an acute state of dreaming while awake. I am hyperaware of my surroundings, and when I am not, this surreal reality whips back at me and my senses are deluged by this new reality at any given moment. The sights – of the respective areas and of the variety of people, the sounds of different languages, the different smells – breads baking, coffee roasting, fried and ethnic foods coalescing, and the feeling of cool air upon me as I warm up during a brisk walk…

Yesterday, I went to London with Professor Branzburg. I had missed the first tour because I got sick during the first week, but I made up for it in spades. Every corner I turned, I saw a new picture – a photograph I had to take. We take so much for granted – media gives us a sense of “being there,” but when we’re actually in the picture we see on the television or silver screen, the experience is breath-taking. I had to occasionally take a deep breath and orient myself to the experience of seeing firsthand the scenery of London.

One of my goals I’ve kept since the beginning of my Oxford stay was to take a picture of every Starbucks that I encountered. Even though there are Starbucks here, and while many of the features are the same as the American stores, there is an infusion of something “different” within – whether it that reflects the more relaxed coffee culture here or the way the interior is designed. For instance, as I mentioned in a previous entry, from the outside, things often look fairly “status quo.” However, upon walking in, one of the Starbucks I looked into was incredibly spacious. Another one, which will appear in my follow up pieces, was quite quaint. Upon looking in I saw several people reading newspapers, facing the outside along a table along the window front. Finally, in an upscale London area, one of the Starbucks was decorated with rich black and gold wood frames. Each one has its own personality.

We walked for four hours straight before we took a break, and I was exhausted, but nevertheless wanting to take in more. I realized at dinner that I needed to travel to London alone and take in the view incrementally – piece by piece on different days, and allow myself absorb – as if by osmosis – this brave new world I am in. After walking, Professor Branzburg and I decided it was time to sit down and have a bite. I was very insistent on going to a pub, or at least an English restaurant; we were in London after all. My other goal is to experience at least one new pub a week, if not two. The beer is really good – the alcohol content is higher as a rule, and not all beers are chilled. Many of the pubs have their own “select” beer(s).