post Oxford Blues

Home from my weekend leadership training course at Ruskin College 

If I gained nothing I can now claim with absolute conviction that I have studied at Oxford. Well I need to pad my C V which consists of a couple of poor A levels, my cycling proficiency certificate, oh and I do have a Bsc (bronze swimming certificate).
Joking aside (about time too) I thoroughly enjoyed my course, and met some outstanding and passionate people, students and tutors. I guess the Trade Union movement has a bright future with such people fighting the cause. I found the subject of leadership fascinating. I had never thought of myself as a leader before, but I guess I am at times. I also identified my shortcomings, and perhaps how to diminish them. The only thing missing from the weekend was more time to explore Oxford, as it seemed to be such an idiosyncratic city. The weather was consistently dank all weekend. There was a hanging mist that felt like you were in the constant spray from a big wet shaking dog. This meant that bloggography (relatively dull photography for the sole purpose of blogging) was unfruitful.

After a long middle study Saturday we had a Sunday morning session before setting off home. . I thought the falcon guesthouse  was charming, the only slight quibble was the shower. A rough guess was that it measured about 2 foot by 2 , the problem is that I am pretty much 2 foot wide by 1 foot 10 inches deep (oh and 6 foot 2 tall, but for once height wasn't an issue) on top of this the entrance to the cubicle was even narrower. The result was that even once I had squeezed in, the resulting small expansion in my body through a thorough drenching meant that I filled the cubicle as if it was a mould I had been poured into. Still I was at least a clean sardine.

Follow The Leaders

We had all decided to drive to the college from the guesthouse to enable a quick getaway. I had not google-mapped the route and our previous walking through the heavily pedestrianised city centre had been no training so I followed a fellow student Kath who had a sat nav. Kath was also troubled with an intermittent stalling engine so I thought my following would help if she broke down. The combination of the above factors resulted in the third most frightening experience of my life. Oxford is clearly a sat nav's nemesis. And Kath had to drive with the abandon of a getaway driver in order not to let an idling engine stall. On top of this Kath took the wrong turn and soon we were hurtling though narrow Oxford back streets in the hands of some South Asian computer coder, who probably only knew Oxford from badly dubbed episodes of Morse. Despite technology we did manage to make it to our destination unscathed.

I was a bit sad once the half day was over. I clearly get a bit of a high during events like this, and the thought of returning to an  cold empty house saddened me a little. We took a few pictures of the group for those Bloggers among us, and after some mutual farewells, with pledges to email each other, we made our separate ways. Its amazing how quickly a group of disparate strangers can bond so quickly and strongly. We will meet again as this was the first event of a year long programme, and I for one hopes this happens soon.

I Can See Bleary Now

So I made my way though Oxford to the motorways north 42, 40, 6 and home. On the way I called Vicky and we got into a conversation about cats, or kittens to be more precise. Vicky is still pestering me to take one of her last 4 kittens as company for Gammo Speng. I was weakening, and said that my worry was that I would need another girl cat. I was then entertained to a live kitten sexing session over the phone which passed by a few motorway junctions.
The journey home was going fine until the M6 toll road. Half way along you come to the grandly titled toll plaza. Its a slightly unsettling experience. You are whizzing along at 80 mph, sorry 70, and suddenly the carriageway fans out into an expansive apron of tarmac, with the 8 toll booths ahead, to choose from. Its really off funding you have no lanes to keep to and judging your braking is a little tricky as I found myself slowing to a crawl with the booth some way off. I wound down my window and chucked my £4.50 into the chute and the barrier went up. Like greyhounds out of traps we all jumped on the gas as 8 abreast we manoeuvred to get position as the apron funnelled back into a 3 lane motorway. It is really quite liberating, accelerating as hard as you like in so much open space. It was just as the M6 toll became the plain old M6 that I hit trouble. When I had opened my window at the toll I had let a huge chunk of cold and damp air into the car. As we sped along and this air warmed up it deposited a slap of thick condensation on every window. In just a moment I could see nothing but a grey opaque windscreen, and my blower was not up to the task. I found myself doing 70 along a by now busy road with almost no vision out of the car. This was now my third most terrifying experience rudely pushing that mornings Oxford dash down to no. 4 (see bottom). I managed to find a glove and, used it to temporarily smear a small clear patch on my screen, as I tried to reduce my speed without careering into those other fortunately fully sighted drivers. It wasn't possible to slow much as I had joined the M^ in the middle lane and was surrounded by the intimidating momentum of a phalanx of lorries.  Through luck more than judgement I managed to keep the balancing act of navigating by my mirrors, while frantically glove rubbing with one hand the other gripping my steering wheel for my life's worth (this has been calculated to approximately £630).  I managed to keep in a straight line for just long enough for my inadequate blowers to have effect, and I regained the gift of vision. The rest of the journey was thankfully uneventful and dull.

By the time I got home it was pitch black, and I entered my cold, cold house with a heavy heart. I was warmed up just a bit by Gammo, who had obviously missed me and was on her finest nuzzling form. I didn't feel so much like a leader that evening.

Top 5 scariest episodes so far

5 First time walking downstairs in heels with boobs obscuring my feet.

4 Recreating Ronin through the early morning streets of Oxford.

3 Blind faith motorway driving.

2 First Time out as Jenny in the daylight.

1 Tooms (for X files fans!)