Pub, Hedghog, Swimming, Classical Music

This entry covers a number of days and nights. First up, recollection of a few hours spent in the very comfortable surrounds of the Rose and Crown, about as good as a pub can be. I read about English pastoral oddities and hauntological culture.

Back home, a member of our resident hedgehog family came out to play, this time the youngest, and possibly stupidest (or the one least concerned with human presence) of the bunch.

The next day I took the children to 'the beach', or a small patch of mud which slopes down to the river. The day was hot, and we were not alone in swimming in the muddy water. From some slopes the mass of thick muck around your feet that almost pulls you short before your feet even reach the bottom is off-putting, while 'the beach' access is gentle, but the recommended approach is to jump straight in from the bridge, pictured to the left below. 

The next day I. and I went to museums, Pitt Rivers again. 

I was interested in the glass spear heads made by Indigenous Australians using parts of electricity pylons hacked off and then sharpened with teeth.

That night I went to the Sheldonian Theatre to see Andras Schiff perform Bach's Well Tempered Clavier, Book 2. I'd met, or at least served, Andras a few times back at my old job and he was always a very pleasant man. I also frequently listen to his recordings of the Beethoven cello sonatas, various Bach recordings and some Schubert on ECM.

It was hot in the Sheldonian, and the sun was streaming in through the windows. Intriguingly, the beams of light were striking the eyes of all those who had paid for the most expensive seats, those seated right behind the piano. The - overwhelmingly elderly white audience - in these seats all tried to deflect the sun with various objects, mostly their programs. One elderly gent had his stuffed under his spectacles, where it remained for the entire first half. See them blinded below.

At around 2 and a half hours duration, it was a rather grueling concert, but magnificent and thrilling too. Schiff caught my eye in the second half as he was playing the first piece after the interval, I wonder if he remembered me from the Harold Moores days?

I particularly enjoyed the Prelude in G Minor, here played by Angela Hewitt. I struggled through learning to play this and got about halfway before abandoning it.

The night sky around the Sheldonian was beautiful.

The next morning we went en masse to the Holywell Music Room to hear Laura van der Heijden and Petr Limonov perform Bach, Beethoven and Schnittke Cello Sonatas. 

The entire program was excellent but the Schnittke was outstanding. Initially they had to compete with nearby roadworks but these fortunately stopped once the music began. Here played by others.

Pony Bikes, Meadow

The town is rather flat and, with the large numbers of students, cycling is a popular and sensible form of transport. A number of cycle hire companies have established themselves enabling people to scan a bike, using a phone app, and cycle away for very low cost. We elected the 'Pony Bike' company due to their cycles being low to the ground for E.'s use, hit the road.

The below house is an attractive pale mint-green.

We cycled past the parks on Park Road and turned left at South Parks Road, after the museums. We followed this until it became a path and crossed the Thames.

We turned off the path and came back to ST Cross Road, where we finally found Holywell Cemetery. I'd been looking for it since I'd read about it in one of the guides and, as advised, it was difficult to find - a small unremarkable entrance hidden from the road, but inside was quite a discovery. A number of tramps were residing there, and they'd picked a pretty good spot. It was dense and overgrown and atmospheric.

Holywell Street is one of my favourites with a jumbled collection of very old houses, the Music Rooms, and entrance to the Turf, with the anachronistic frontage of New College arrogantly and crassly jutting into it.

The sun came out and we found ourselves cycling through Christchurch Meadows and following the river past the boat houses.

Blackberry season is in full swing.

We later went for an evening walk to Port Meadow and the Perch, past I.'s favourite weeping willow.

The trap grounds, possibly home to a water vole.

The drought broken, the meadow is returning to its lush green state.

Rules.

The next day we strolled again to the parks, past I.'s 'secret way'. 

We spied the opening scenes of 'Swallows and Amazons', this time in unforgiving heat and sun exposure (we'd seen it in the evening in unexpected cool).

The Union Jack in tatters, the way it should be.

Fungi growing off the side of a tree, a sign of its decay.