
Although Oxford is a small college town, the University dates back to the late 11th century and there’s a superabundance of local history and architecture . After four days of pounding the pavement all day every day, I only just scratched the surface. I visited quirky little museums like the Museum of Natural History, where dinosaur bones mingle with Gothic tracery, and the famous Ashmolean Museum. The latter houses a collection of curiosities begun in the 17th century by John Tradescant (my hero) and includes a beaded robe that belonged to Powhatan, the father of the Pocahontas.

Of all the places I’ve been in England, Oxford is the place I can best imagine myself living … happily and for the rest of my life. I never thought of myself as much of an Anglophile, but I guess I am. After just two days in Oxford, I was begging Kevin to let us live there – forever, or at the very least for us to come back for a year when he’s on sabbatical. Unfortunately, the dollar is so weak right now and the pound so strong that for an American to stay there for very long would be financial suicide. While we were there, we rented a car a drove across the South to visit some of his family in Devon, and the gas bill alone nearly broke us: At £1 per liter and 25 liters per tank, a tank set us back $50 U.S.! Still, it was worth it, for in my opinion there is not place on earth prettier than the English countryside. But more on that later.
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