Don’t get me wrong, I love my college. I’d proudly defend it against most criticisms. But it does have one major flaw: the absence of Sunday Brunch. So, to overcome this tragedy, and in the hope of appeasing my hangover with some much needed sugar, I headed out last week to the Green Routes Café in Cowley.
Growing up, the loving companionship of animals had been a constant for me – a living, breathing reminder that life is worth treasuring and slowing down for. Yet, now separated by hundreds of miles, at university the happiness I had felt amongst my animals began to dissipate. That is, until I saw the cat tree in my college lodge and heard the tip-tapping of four paws across the wooden floor.
I kept noticing this decidedly cool bar a little way down the Cowley Road. With fairy-lights strung across its wooden terrace and ‘Bigfoot’ scrawled in playful letters across the glass, it seemed slightly out of place on Cowley Road.
We all know that Oxford can feel like a bubble. Every day brings new challenges and new deadlines, to the extent that a week can pass in an instant and there is just no time to peek outside of the blinkered existence of tutorials and the occasional pub trip. But this tunnel vision can become restrictive, and even self-perpetuating.
"With the season of love (or loathing) already upon us, here are some of my more accessible, go-to cocktail creations with a Valentine’s Day twist. Perfect for enjoying with your pals, lover(s), even on your own (dare I say it!)."
It’s unsurprising that when the temperature drops, we crave piping hot dinners, whether it be Vietnamese pho, Swiss fondue, or throat-tingling curries laden with fragrant spices.
Haggis is hardly something to get excited about - when you hear dinner’s going to be offal stuffed into a sheep’s stomach, your mouth doesn’t exactly start watering. But as soon as you dare take your first bite, the divisive delicacy wins you over.
Are my 10 lectures, 6 hours of labs and 24 hours of imposter syndrome worth it for a fancy gown that’s only going to make those friends think ‘god they’re a prick’?
“Here’s the thing about being an older woman…the roles are more interesting. People get more complex as they get older. And you have more life experience to bring to the role.”
If you want to take up stamp collecting, or pet more dogs, or stop listening to the same six songs you’ve had in your playlist since you were 14, why wait until January 1st to do it?
My pandemic summer was spent staring at a computer, but these were a startlingly productive and educational few months and, as with most exciting things in my unexciting life, it starts with a blank page.
Back in my childhood bedroom, I am stuck in an unpleasant time-warp, sixteen again and agonizing over awful boys, listening to utterly miserable Smiths songs. It’s the deja-vu experience no one wants.
I’ll miss the little things, most of all: the warm chaotic hubbub of too many people in one bungalow, fighting over who gets the sofa seat with the footrest, and maybe most of all, the smell of cooking wafting from the kitchen.
Surely having that moment to celebrate and realise that “yes, I made it to f*cking Oxford during a worldwide crisis” seems quite affirming and in line with the Government’s message of being able to have a ‘proper University experience™’, whatever that means.