Day 6—Oxford to Abington

Anne and I got to bed early last night, slept well, woke up refreshed, and took a quick walk around Oxford, taking in the medieval architecture, the gardens, and the crowds.

After our whirlwind tour, we started off from our hotel and down the path in high spirits.

My only pain is a sharp backache due to hauling our suitcases up flights of stairs to our hotel rooms. None of the hotels have elevators. And our hotel rooms are always on the very top floor, which in Oxford was up two flights of narrow, twisty stairs. Not only are our rooms on the top floor. In one of the hotels the room was in very bad location. In Abington, our window looked out onto the hotel’s dumpsters, which were just a few feet away from our window. Crashing dumpster lids startled us as we were falling asleep and woke us in the morning.

The problems with the hotel rooms are part of a larger problem that I am being forced to confront. My dawning awareness of this larger problem came as Anne and I boarded the plane in Los Angeles to fly to London. There were two flight attendants to greet us when we got on the plane, one on either side of the plane’s entrance. They were directing passengers, either to the left, to the front of the plane, or to the right, to the back of the plane. When we stepped on the plane, a stewardess looked at us, smiled, and directed us to the left, to the front of the plane. Her partner quickly corrected her and directed us to the right, to the back of the plane. The first stewardess looked at us again, puzzled. When we got to our seats, we couldn’t help but notice that we were decades older than our seat mates at the back of the plane. They, with the vigor of youth, could recover easily from sitting curled up like a pretzel for ten hours in a cramped airplane seat. Anne and I on the other hand, hobbled off the plane in London.

Less-than-ideal hotel rooms at the top of the stairs are another symptom of this problem. When choosing a company for booking our trip, I went with the low cost provider. I justified my choice because the company is small, a husband and wife operation. But Anne and I are too old for the back of airplanes, narrow twisty flights of stairs, and crashing dumpster lid serenades.

Anne discovered that water taxis begin servicing the Thames starting at Oxford. She seemed a little wistful as one passed us heading downriver. 

On this part of the river, many of the banks are swampy and overgrown.

Our walk today was short, 8.25 miles. We needed a bit of a rest, and we got one. Even better, we are looking forward to another short walk tomorrow, about 8.5 miles. After that, we should be well rested and in good shape for the rest of the walk.