Avebury Stone Circle

Avebury is home to the largest stone circle in the world. It isn't as regular or photogenic as Stonehenge and is thus far less well known than the younger monument, but I found the visit far more enjoyable. 

I was able to walk among the massive blue-grey stones alone in the morning mist. 

I'm torn about the town that was built among the stones. On one hand, it's a shame to interrupt the ancient sacred place with houses and churches. On the other hand, this medieval dovecote is really cool:

Actually, the church and dovecote are outside the ditched circle. I don't at all approve of the roads, houses, and restaurants put within the standing stones.

I should mention that these stones are huge, especially the Portal Stones near the processional entrance.

The processional route is lined with more stone pillars leading out from the circle.

Past the procession a ways lies Silbury Hill, the largest constructed mound in Europe. Your guess to its purpose is as good as, well, anyone's. 

Also in the area is a long barrow. The burial mound once held fifty skeletons, dating from 3500 BCE. 

As much as I loved the ancient ruins, I hurried onward to England's Southwest arm.

The Cotswolds

When I arrived in Cheltenham, my hosts took me out to see some live stand-up comedy. All but one of the performers were pretty damned funny. Some of the lines that stuck with me were: "I wanted to kill someone and some people want to die: why can't there be a system to get us together?" and a gem spoken after determining that two people with notable attractiveness disparity who were sitting next to each other were not in fact dating: "If you were together I'd suck his cock just to taste you."

There was little in Cheltenham itself that interested me, except for a statue of Gustav Holst (the composer of The Planets Suite). It was mainly a base from which I could head out to the lovely old villages of the Cotswold region, an area full of medieval villages. 

First I headed to Tewksbury to see its abbey and timber-framed houses. 

The buses were on a hub system out of Cheltenham, so I passed through it again on the way to Gloucester. Upon reaching the city, I was struck by the architecture of the St. Nicholas Church. 

Of course, the cathedral was even more impressive.

I loved the curves of the support structures.

The beautifully ornate cloister was used for the filming of an area of Hogwarts in the Harry Potter movies.

After another bus exchange in Cheltenham I arrived in Painswick. It was full of pretty stone cottages.

Back in Cheltenham yet again, I wandered up the promenade to a park build around an old overly grand pumphouse. Then I caught yet another bus to Swindon. On the way I looked out the window at Circencester, a Cotswold town that hadn't quite made the cut but which I think I would have enjoyed even more than the towns I actually visited. So it goes.

There isn't anything to see in Swindon. At all. In fact, the bus driver actually asked me, an obvious tourist, "Why would you want to come here?" The answer was that there are no couch surf hosts in the small towns near the Avebury stone circle. My generous and entertaining host was an American working abroad. Over the dinner he provided, we discussed travels while listening to international music. Afterward we listened to some Lewis Black routines while playing with his kitten. 

I told him many of my blog followers would get more excited by the diminutive feline than any other picture of my trip. What say you? Are you not entertained?

Oxford

Like any scholar, I dreamed of entering Oxford as a student, preferably one who received a Rhodes or Marshall scholarship. Nonetheless, I was happy to enter the city at all, and to bask in its architecture and academia. The University dominates Oxford, where even the taxi cabs are educational since they are emblazoned with the periodic table of elements.

My first day in Oxford I simply wandered the streets, taking in the architecture and visiting several of the colleges. As always, I loved the grotesques, some of which are rumored to have been some of the inspiration for C.S. Lewis as he wrote The Lion, the Witch, and the wardrobe.

I also happened to be there as the cherry blossoms were blooming. 

The Radcliffe Camera, which houses one of the many libraries here, is one of the more distinctive buildings in the city and so everyone takes pictures of it. I was no exception.

I'm always heartened when the schools of logic and metaphysics look as impressive as I think they should:

That night I watched a Korean horror (or perhaps comedy) film with my couchsurf host. 

The next day was full of museums, at least after I spent some time marveling at 118 miles of shelving at the Bodleian Library. The University Museum holds the first dinosaur bones discovered, among other treasures. As I visited, a Lewis Carroll/Charles Dodgson exhibit cataloged some of the author's personal effects, as well as exhibits from the museum's history that had been inspiration for him. He used to take Alice here and tell her stories about the taxidermied animals, such as the dodo. Oh Lewis Carroll, a (possible) example of how pedophiles can be adored by society so long as they never act upon their desires (other than with marriage proposals that people could pretend were in jest). 

The attached Pitt Rivers museum was stuffed with curiosity cases, full of loot taken back by Victorian explorers. Some of my favorites included shrunken heads, skulls decorated with stones, paint, and feathers, and unusual body modifications like shaped skulls that are altered when baby's skull was still soft.

Next up was the Ashmodian Museum. Highlights included a Roman coin printed from gold taken from the Temple in Jerusalem, Rodin sculptures, and the displays of the Neolithic Egyptian period -- which lasted from 1,000,000 to 10,000 BCE. A somewhat more recent Nubian Egyptian burial chamber left me standing in absolute awe. 

After a full day, I headed out to Cheltenham, my base in the Cotswolds.

Kenilworth, Warwick, and Shakespeare's Grave

Jens accompanied me to a couple castles. The first was Kenilworth castle. The place is probably best known as the home of Robert Dudley, a man who loved and was loved by Elizabeth I, though how far he actually got with the 'virgin queen' is unknown. The castle has a great exhibit on the extent of the relationship that is known. 

The neighboring castle is far more popular, though I imagine only because of the marketing. Warwick castle is an amusement park, and a low quality one at that. It is overpriced, crowded, and has little of historical note because it has all been remade to fit the commercial look. Jens and I gave a scathing review at a kiosk that asked for feedback at the end. 

The timber-framed Lord Leycester Hospital made the trip to Warwick worthwhile. Though never actually a hospital, the grand buildings have been retirement homes for soldiers and their families from the days of Elizabeth I to the present. 

Stratford-upon-Avon was only a short bus ride away. I'm sure i would have enjoyed more of the town, but there was a sudden downpour. As the birthplace of Shakespeare, you would expect plays to be going all the time, but unfortunately they were long since sold out. Thus, I merely trudged through the rain to Shakespeare's grave and then back to the bus station.

I forget sometimes how wild I look after traveling for a couple months. I'm amazed my couch surf hosts all took my appearance in stride.

There was another fun misericord in this church:

I made my way to Oxford, where I had some Indian food before meeting up with my couch surf host, who introduced me to the movie Brick. Brick is a film noir style mystery set in a current day high school, with brilliant witty dialogue. I highly recommend it. 

Birmingham, Lichfield, and Coventry

It seems I never actually made it to Birmingham's cathedral. Perhaps I confused St. Martin's church with the larger edifice. In any case, the church was quite the contrast with the very modern Selfridges department store beside it. 

That evening I also visited Victoria Square, where the statue of the eponymous queen and a Gateshead statue titled Iron Man stand before the Council House.  

After some time in the library I wandered the streets trying to find some of the houses of historical architectural interest, but eventually giving up and making my way to the hostel. There, I had some lively discussions with some Filipino students, ate soup, and watched Inglorious Basterds. 

In the morning I headed out to Lichfield to see the cathedral that was under siege three times during the English Civil War by various sides. 

The grotesques here have expressions even more horrified than usual.

Perhaps it is because the soldiers hunkering down here used the grotesques inside to sharpen their swords.

Back in Birmingham, I walked the university grounds and attempted to see the Barber Institute of Art, but it was closed for Good Friday (oh, right, that exists). Instead I spent a good portion of the day in the art and history museum. 

Before the daylight was spent, I headed out to Coventry, which has the odd distinction of having two cathedrals. The old St. Michael's Cathedral was blasted to ruins by the Nazis. 

The adjacent new Cathedral was visible from the remaining tower of the old. 

So, funny story about that bell tower. A more observant person would have seen the small sign at its base stating that there was a fee to climb it and that it closed at 4:00 pm. I, on the other hand, got locked inside. About the time I resigned myself to staying the night in the tower, the woman running the gift shop within heard my shouts and knocks and let me out, and I happily paid the entrance fee and left to explore the new cathedral at ground level. There was a service letting out, and I didn't feel like wading upstream to get inside, so I just toured the modern building's exterior. 

The statue of an archangel expelling Lucifer from heaven was very... detailed.

Another nude statue graces Coventry. The story of Lady Godiva is set in this city, where the lady's husband said he would let up his oppressive taxation if she rode naked through the streets. The term Peeping Tom also has its origins in this story. I hadn't realized that the legend had a supposed location until I was there.

That night I had a couch surfing arrangement in a university outside of Coventry. The Japanese student who had offered to host me ended up leaving for the holidays, but his roommate was kind enough to host me in his stead.  I hung out with Jens for hours discussing travel, politics in his native Norway, Buddhism, feats of academic intensity, and dolphins.