As I mark the one week anniversary of my arrival in England, I shall share some of my opening impressions of the country, and the city that I now find myself a part of.

1) Brits neither like, nor are capable of dealing with, snow.

Starting soon after landing at Heathrow, and travelling into London the people’s aversion to snow was obvious. We saw the lame attempt at snow removal, which consisted of salting the hell out of the sidewalks without really moving any snow. The result was a salty, slushy mess, that – when frozen overnight - created a much more hazardous surface the next morning. This led to more salt, and the cycle of futility continued. It was also clear that the fashions of the day in urban London do not exactly mesh with winter precipitation. Stiletto heels, and dress shoes do not offer much in the way of traction on slushy sidewalks, and though my hiking boots may be considered visually assaulting by the Ralph Laurens of the world, I consider it far more stylish to walk with my head held high than walk like a baby giraffe who is desperately trying to look composed.

Listening to the weather coverage on the TV is another joy. There was footage of people who had abandoned their cars (which were buried in close to 6 inches of snow) and walked to the nearest town to stay the night. Others had written “welcome to hell” in the snow that had accumulated on their town sign. Even today, the Oxford vs. Oxford Brookes soccer game was cancelled due to the forecast of inclement weather (which so far has been nowhere to be found). It’s a good thing the children have the good sense to enjoy all this glory instead of revel in misery like their parents. The hills around campus have been beehives of activity. And I couldn’t be happier, it’s been quite comforting to have at least a token part of Canada with me.

Best of all though, is not only has a few meager centimetres of snow rendered one of the world’s largest airports completely inert, but now the focus turns to the impending “floods” that will apparently bring the country to the brink of collapse when all this dastardly snow has the nerve to melt. Needless to say, the weather here has been Biblical for the Brits, and rather laughable for me. Which brings me to my next observation ...   

2) The English (as advertised) have a great affinity for talking about the weather.

It seems I have arrived at the perfect time to meet people. At our welcome meeting earlier in the week, one of the heads of the International Student Society told us that all we had to do to strike up a conversation with a local, was to ask their opinion of the snow. Being from Canada I have the perfect icebreaker (pardon the pun) for social situations. I simply say – quite matter-of-factly – that I am used to cold temperatures and snow, and, as long as I’m talking to a person from a milder climate, the reaction is a combination of wonderment, respect and pity.

In Bill Bryson’s book “Notes From a Small Island” (which is hilarious) he says that talking about the weather is a sort of British sport, and something they take great pride in. I know my time here has been brief, but this observation has proved incredibly true.

3) Oxford (as advertised) is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever visited.

I think that judging by my other posts, you could have made this summation yourself, but I thought it was appropriate to reiterate just how amazing this city is. Yesterday I went on a lovely little wander in the city core, getting myself delightfully lost, and discovering all sorts of little nooks and crannies, as well as some of the notable landmarks. I found the iconic Bridge of Sighs, the Bodleian Library, the Radcliffe Camera, and the Oxford Castle all completely by accident. I also found my favourite street in Oxford: Cornmarket St. It’s my favourite partly because of its name, partly because of its buildings, partly because it’s a pedestrian-only street and there is no possibility of looking the wrong way before crossing, and partly because of the great eavesdropping opportunities it affords. I wandered from late afternoon until the sun had set and the snow had begun to fall, veiling the lights of the city in a wonderfully wintry glow. If you have the chance to get yourself lost in a new city, I highly recommend it. You really do unearth all the hidden gems, and you can always find your way back again. Speaking of hidden gems, although it’s not really so hidden on the aptly named Broad St., the best discovery of my walk was Blackwell’s Bookshop.

4) Blackwell’s Bookshop is spectacular.

Although the company has now expanded to more than 40 stores around the UK, the Blackwell’s in Oxford is the original. It looks, feels, and smells like a book store should. I couldn’t find an empty wall in the place, and the Norrington Room in the basement is especially massive, with over 3 miles of shelving. Best of all, the pretentious and invasive aroma of Starbucks coffee is pleasantly absent, leaving nothing to dilute the smell of old paper. It feels like an independent store, and has a charm and personality that cannot be replicated by other corporate chains like Chapters and Indigo. I think that is partly aided by its setting in one of the world’s premier academic and historical cities, but nonetheless, Blackwell’s is a place where I can see myself spending many cozy afternoons.

Finally, for those of you who think that I am just having a merry old jaunt around Oxford without a care in the world: you are mostly correct, but I did have a class today. “Gaia: The Earth as a Living System” seems quite promising, and the professor seems to possess a disproportionate amount of intelligence which means I am bound to learn something. So as of now I am back in the realm of being a student, that bothersome little matter that is a condition of going on exchange. However I am looking forward to all the courses I have signed up for, especially those that promise field trips. Sightseeing as part of mandated course work, what a capital idea!