England: Birmingham-Stratford-Oxford-Hilde

Ah, what should I say, what a week. Once again, I only managed to write late, even though I have so much to tell. The week on the farm was - for me - quite peaceful. We currently only have three dogs in the boarding kennels and since I was often out and about, I didn't have to work much. Zak, Charles, and Sydney, my three favorite giant schnauzers, unfortunately got picked up yesterday and now suddenly all the dogs are playing in the field, which initially caught me off guard because Zak never moved an inch. So now it's all about playing ball instead of watching sheep (Zak's favorite pastime). But now we have Lucy, a pretty feisty little spaniel, Mollie the collie, and Molly the beast (nicknames necessary for feeding purposes). Molly is supposedly a mix of collie and labrador, but she is definitely too big and too heavy for that. Jan said that this is often claimed for rescued dogs because collies and labradors are easier to rehome. But now we have even more cats, including 15-year-old Smudge and three-legged Cybil. Our long-term visitor Truffle is finally back home this week as well. The last lamb was born on the farm last week, which brings the flock to 19 lambs, 16 ewes, and 7 rams (kudos, guys...). The lambs grow quickly and run and tumble across the field. Meanwhile, I cleared out the attic in the barn and picked out and washed clothes for the second-hand shop, transplanted tomatoes and pumpkins, spread horse manure on the freshly tilled fields, and pulled tons of weeds.

Mid-week, Jan took us to Melton Mowbray to visit the farmer's market. I like markets and was looking forward to picking flowers with Jan and strolling through the little stalls. But the farmer's market in Melton Mowbray wasn't quite as cute as I imagined. Hundreds of tractors, vans, and livestock trailers were already waiting for us in the parking lot, and we entered the market through the livestock area. There were hundreds and hundreds of herds of sheep, pigs, cows, chickens, and turkeys being auctioned off. In addition, there were fruits, vegetables, work clothes, a flea market, animal feed for all kinds of animals, and fresh meat. This wasn't a farmer's market, it was a market for farmers. Amazing. It was loud and dirty, and the farmers came in their finest overalls to showcase their animals. I could only pet the piglets while Jan could list the pros and cons of each animal and explain the tricks of the sellers. For example, they like to mix roosters with the chicks, which the egg-producing operation obviously doesn't need. And without knowing, you end up going home with five roosters instead of five hens. I watched as pigs and sheep were auctioned off, and I also watched the auction of the chicks (which only took 4 seconds, 8 pounds). The cows are led around in a kind of amphitheater so that everyone can see them before they are auctioned off. It's not clear who is bidding, nobody reacts. Dave later told me that it's usually just a slight inclination of the fingertips or something like that, but I didn't see anything. Maybe I accidentally bought a cow when I rubbed my nose, who knows. Hilde would be sitting in Melton Mowbray's parking lot now. Anyway, it was a great day, and in the city center, there was also a weekly market, which I had expected, and we visited the church and saw the traditional pie-making (Melton Mowbray is known for its pork pies and blue cheese).

Last week was a week of travel for me. I visited Birmingham, Stratford-upon-Avon, and Oxford within three days and it was fantastic. Thursday morning, I took the train to Birmingham and spent the day in the city. Although it's not exceptionally beautiful, it was still worth the visit. I sat comfortably in Victoria Square and watched school classes do their tasks, and I visited the town hall and the Bullring (a shopping center with a bull statue in front, that's all it is. A kind lady skillfully posed in my photo, so of course, that can't be missing here). Birmingham is mostly made of steel and glass, without offering any notable sights, but the city is crisscrossed with canals. I spent several hours at Brindleyplace and by the water because it's a beautiful area. And on Thursday, it was 26 degrees Celsius, which felt like 36° after two weeks of rain, so I ended up getting sunburned. In England. Since the weather turned so bad two days later, I now walk around with a bright red nose and marks from my glasses on my face, wearing my rain jacket and thick sweater in ankle-deep mud. At least I make Sara and Jan laugh. The hostel where I stayed on Thursday night was adorable, cozy, and so tiny (and I'm 1.60 meters tall, it was really small!). The receptionist always called me by my name, the only shower on the floor was shared, I only needed two steps to cross the room, and the owner personally toasted the bread for his guests at breakfast. I don't think I'll visit Birmingham explicitly again, even though it's one of the largest cities in England, it doesn't have much to offer. On the pedestrian street, New Street, where I strolled on my way to the cathedral, I was approached by a Buddhist monk and a phone promoter, which usually annoys me because they try to sell me something I don't want. But like many English people, the promoters/monks here are very nice too. They don't directly offer their textbooks and phone cards, but instead engage in conversation before getting to the point. This gives me the opportunity to (once again...) speak English and practice navigating through the small talk chaos of the British. Because it's still difficult for me to spontaneously respond correctly. If they're not really interested in how I'm doing, why do I have to tell everyone instead of just saying 'hello'?

On Friday, I took the train to Stratford-upon-Avon because even though I'm not a big Shakespeare fan, I assume that visiting his birthplace will leave more of an impression than just reading about it, which surely isn't a hindrance for future English teachers. And I have to say, it was so worth it. Stratford is a beautiful town. You can visit Shakespeare's birthplace, his later residence, his wife Anne Hathaway's cottage, and his parents' home. Since I was only in Stratford for a day and didn't feel like rushing, I decided to only visit the birthplace in the city center, and I'm still glad I made that decision. Through the visitor center (and - whew - £17 admission fee...), you enter a breathtaking garden that feels like an oasis in the busy city, especially in the summery weather. In the garden, there is a wall installation of Shakespeare's works (in condensed form, ideal for Shakespeare skeptics like me), and two actors performed pieces from his works and recited sonnets. Inside the house, the history of the building is displayed, including Shakespeare's birth room and more. I was particularly impressed by the tradition of pilgrims who have been carving their names into the window glass of the birth room since 1806, and the displayed window bears names like Lord Alfred Tennyson, Sir Walter Scott, or Thomas Carlyle. And to this day, pilgrims still carve their names into the windows of the house. The atmosphere and the beautiful garden impressed me so much that I ended up sitting in the garden for an hour and was ultimately glad that I only chose to visit that one museum. In the evening, Dave picked me up from the train station in Hinckley, and we had original fish and chips by a bonfire (unfortunately not to my taste...).

Saturday was also exciting because Jan took us to Oxford. She was dancing with Black Annis, her Morris dance group, at the local folk festival, and fortunately, there were still two spots available in the car for me and Sara. So we set off on the 1.5-hour drive to Oxford with Jan's sister Stephanie and another dancer, heavily loaded with costumes, drums, sticks, a hobby horse, and a costumed dog. Sara and I initially ventured off on our own while Jan and her group took their positions in the pedestrian zone and swung their sticks. Oxford is indescribable; ancient and venerable, rustic yet fragile, pulsating with life yet heavily calm. There is also a system of canals running through the city, and we couldn't have chosen a better place for lunch than the bank of one of the canals. It was idyllic, and at the same time, we laughed ourselves silly. On the canals, you can either take a guided tour or navigate the longboats on your own with a long pole, similar to gondolas in Venice. While the guided boats glided smoothly over the water, others were less skilled. The person pushing the boat had to stand, which seemed to be the biggest problem, and even though another person could change the direction with a small paddle, the boats in front of us kept crashing into each other, crashing against the bank, or tipping over. All loaded with champagne and strawberries, they wanted to poshly cruise through Oxford and failed miserably. Great fun for us, less idyllic for the poor passengers. For the rest of the day, we strolled through the large park, past Morris dancers and cricket fields, and explored the city. In the afternoon, we went in search of the Black Annis and watched them and the other groups dance for another hour. Hattie (the costumed dog) was fantastic!

On Sunday, Jan took me to an agility competition where Hattie participated. Essentially, the dogs had to jump over obstacles and go through tunnels, walk on a plank, and do it all without peeing or pooping. It was quite interesting, and thanks to the beautiful weather, it was very pleasant to spend the day outdoors.

We spent the last two days on the farm, interrupted by our walk with the dogs along the canals at Bosworth Field. That's where the Battle of Bosworth took place during the Wars of the Roses, in which Richard III died. We visited the memorial and enjoyed the beautiful countryside.