THE MARCH AROUND AVEBURY

Prof. Chapman leads the students on a march around the far side of the moat, which surrounds the huge Avebury rocks.

CLASH OF OLD AND NEW

I saw these two men in the outdoor cafe at Stonehenge. I would guess they may be Tibetan monks, one of whom is talking on his cell phone. It's a fascinating world!

A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN IN WYCLIFFE

My room is typical of the dorm rooms in Wycliffe. It's spare but adequate. Every room has an interesting view too. Mine looks out on Banbury Road.

A HIDDEN SPOT IN AVEBURY

My husband, Kent, discovered this topiary garden. We weren't certain if it was private property, but we wandered around anyway. It was pretty impressive.

A HALF-TIMBERED HOUSE IN SALISBURY

This looks like it could fall down at any moment, but it's been there for more than 500 years.

THE AVEBURY ROCKS

This should give you an idea of the size and placement of the rocks at Avebury.

AVEBURY

Prof. Chapman tells us about the truth and legends of the famous Avebury stones while the wind rips us apart.

OUR FIRST FIELD TRIP: STONEHENGE, AVEBURY, SALSBURY

Today our coach driver is Andy, who guides us competently through country roads as wide as a sidewalk and walled by hedges. I expect to see rabbits in waistcoats jumping out at us. The Salisbury Plain stretches out before us, but not at all on the scale of the plains we know west of us. The sky is ever-changing, and we drive in and out of rain showers the whole day. We start to see amazing little villages with old, old stone churches and pubs, thatched roofs (how do you fix them??) and half-timber buildings leaning artfully as if ready to tumble at any moment.

Avebury is one of these perfect little villages (who lives here, I wonder), but it has one additional strange asset -- it's surrounded by a ring of upright spear-shaped rocks that weigh many tons. The rocks are then surrounded by a deep moat, and these same kind of rocks line an ancient lane or road towards a burial ground. Nobody knows for certain who built them or why, but it was thousands of years B.C., about the same era as the more famous, but ultimately less interesting Stonehenge structure.

Prof. Chapman leads us around the entire ring and answers every question with relish. He tells us how they once found the remains of a man near one of the rocks, dating to the 16th century. They think he must have been crushed to death by a rock falling on him when they were in the process of re-erecting one that had fallen over. He was thought to have been a barber because he had barbering tools in a pouch, including scissors. Chapman gets so excited about these stories that it makes us excited too.

Stonehenge is a bit too commercialized to be the sort of spiritual experience one would expect, but the 700-year-old Salisbury Cathedral retains that magic. One of our students actually starts crying because it's so beautiful. There are bigger cathedrals around, but this one looks enormous because it's so over-sized compared to all the other structures in its vicinity. My husband remarks on the bare interior walls and how few stained-glass windows there are. Prof. Chapman explains that the Puritans smashed the original stained glass windows and destroyed the colorful designs on the walls. Too bad.

We have a little free time, so I wander over to the town. It's stunningly lovely. An old courtyard has been transformed into a pedestrian shopping mall. I get lost, but luckily find the coach before it's too late. We have a system to see if everyone is back, but we need to rehearse a bit more. Everyone has a number they are to shout out in sequence, but it's hard to hear on a 55-passenger coach. Some complain they can't remember their numbers. I tell them to spend an evening memorizing it!

We return to a hot dinner at Wycliffe, and some wander off to bed to rest up for a trip to London the next day. So much to do -- so little time!

LegoLand Homes

These colorful but tiny rowhouses near Wycliffe Hall, our temporary home, probably cost as much as our lake home in Bemidji.

The Covered Market

One of my favorite spots in Oxford -- dozens of curious stores, shops, and food vendors all vie for your attention in a riot of color, smells, sounds and fun.

Professor Chapman Leads us on our Walking Tour of Oxford

Although we're all suffering mightily from severe jet-lag the afternoon of our arrival, Prof. Chapman cares not a whit, and leads us on a multi-mile stroll through his beloved town of Oxford.

Strange Folk Festival

These odd dancers and musicians flooded the streets of Oxford this weekend. I saw the same festival last year, and it was virtually identical. I not only enjoyed the weird costumes, face paintings and music, but also the Asian tourists taking photos and the East Indian residents walking down the street. What must they be thinking??

I'm caught in the act of buying a baguette

North Parade Street has some tiny little shops that sell exquisite French pastries, sandwiches and cappuccino. I also learned today in Prof. Chapman's lecture that it owes its name to the fact that soldiers used to parade back and forth during the 17th century when King Charles I fled to Oxford to hide from the angry London merchant class who were sick of him taxing them for his indulgent lifestyle.

Creighton and the Kiwi

Creighton (my son) and I took a walk on Mother's Day and went to dinner. He couldn't wait to eat, I guess!

Monday, 23 March: Spring ends, Rains begin

Well, we were fooled again. As in Minnesota, English weather can be mercurial. We had a lovely weekend, but today it's cold and rainy, and the forecast is for more of the same. This is the real England of March.

We have already had multiple lectures from our Oxford professors, long walks all around town, a few pub visits, a bit of British telly and plenty of rest and fresh air. Some have discovered Ben's Cookies at the Covered Market, where Ben creates such amazing delicacies as orange zest chocolate chip cookies, white chocolate and cranberry cookies, and ginger and dark chocolate cookies.

Some have already attended Catholic or Presbyterian church on Sunday. (I received a nice bouquet of daffodils and fresh rosemary from several thoughtful students who were given them in church and told to give them to their mothers, since it was Mother's Day in the UK.) I was then taken out to dinner by my son, who is enrolled in the program. We ate at Loch Fyne, where I had salmon cakes and a bowl of parsnip apple soup. Delicious!

Professor Allan Chapman, our head lecturer here at Wycliffe Hall, is the quintessential Oxford professor. I wrote a lengthy piece about him in last year's Eurospring blog, which can be accessed at www.eurospring08.blogspot.com. The students love him, of course. He's dramatic and fun-loving (just like our coach driver named Allan, come to think of it!) He's also a great person. He eats lunch with us and loves to talk while he gnaws on a chicken leg with a napkin tucked into his waistcoat.

We've visited The Turf, the oldest pub in Oxford (about 1000 years old!) where Bill Clinton used to hang out. It's through a tiny alleyway behind the Bridge of Sighs. It's a higgledy-piggledy mess of indoor and outdoor areas with ceilings so low that anyone over 5'10" has to duck. Some people sit and drink quietly -- some are loud. Some even work on their laptops, although I have no idea how they can concentrate.

We have big plans -- for a London play, Easter break trips to Ireland, London and other points of interest. But for now, we're quite content to explore our immediate surroundings. I see a few movies in my future; the Phoenix Picture House has a fast-changing lineup of foreign and art films that I find intriguing.

We've arrived!

After a blessedly uneventful 8-hour direct flight from the Twin Cities to London, we breeze through customs (our letters from Wycliffe Hall explaining our mission were quite helpful in that regard)and were met by a pleasant middle-aged woman dressed in a sort of real-estate agent dress and jacket holding a "Eurospring" sign. She directed us to our coach (what Americans know as a tour bus) and before we knew it, we were on the left-hand side of the road to Oxford.

Our bus driver, Allan, gave everyone their first experience with the wonderful, hard-to-understand British accents. His was thick, broad and dramatic, as were the multiple tattoos all down his hairy arms. He'd been to America before -- Carlyle, Pennsylvania, to be exact -- to visit some relatives. Didn't have much to say about it.

He did have a bit to say about politicians ("They're all crooks!") and how to stay awake after a trans-Atlantic flight ("Drink two Red Bulls and Mars Bars"). He also told us it was his wife's birthday today. "What do you want for your birthday,my love?" he asked her. According to Allan, she replied thus: "A widow's pension would be nice!" He thought it was pretty funny.

Just as I was beginning to stereotype him, he waxed eloquent about all the gorgeous yellow daffodils blooming along the roadside. "We had to memorize a poem about them in school," he said. He then proceeded to recite the entire Wordsworth "Daffodils" poem ("I wander'd lonely as a cloud. . .")

He said he'd probably be our driver for our first field trip next week. I look forward to seeing Allan again.

And So It Begins!

12:03 p.m., March 18

First phone call from a Eurospringer: Can I bring my computer cord in my carry-on or is it considered a weapon? I tell him it will work. Actually, I'm surprised we can, as i think about it. After all, you could theoretically strangle someone with it.