18 April 2003 23:14 [link]
r.a.
We went for dinner at a pub I shall not name. I shall not name it, because if I did then you might go there, and I might not get a seat. The open secret of the RA is handed down from hungry student to hungry student. In a way, it's become part of the race memory.
It's not a place to get drunk, really. It's more somewhere to get food to line the stomach before going elsewhere to get drunk. The food is proper pub fare: sandwiches, baked potatoes, pies. Simple, solid food in quantity. Cheap simple, solid food. Sandwiches, chips and a pint for a fiver. It's quite, quite lovely.
Sara had a baked potato with cheese and pineapple. An enormous potato. I had my usual sandwiches and chips, but this time I had cheese on the chips. An excess to make a dietician weep, given the amount of cheese. I added salt, because after a certain point food can't get any more unhealthy.
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18 April 2003 23:02 [link]
punt
Ah, the bliss of punting. Actually, it would have been bliss if we hadn't occasionally headed into the banks and bushes. But that's all part of the fun.
We rented a punt from the Cherwell Boathouse which is on a lovely stretch of the Cherwell through Oxford. Ed and Nicole brought sangria. We brought Asti Martini and lunch from Heroes.
Actually, in the sunshine it was bliss - banks, bushes and all.
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18 April 2003 08:01 [link]
ow
Injuring myself while washing my hair was slightly ignominious. I think I slept in an odd position, and when I reached up to wet my hair a muscle in my shoulder did something... painful. Within ten minutes all the muscles in my shoulders and neck were rigid, trying to avoid hurting the painful muscle.
Massage seems to have helped. A bit. I must relax.
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18 April 2003 07:31 [link]
blergh
Getting up early after a late night is no fun.
Going up to Oxford for a few days is much fun.
Pain, pleasure.
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