England was wonderful, and all looked a bit like a movie set, or a fairy tale.

I was fortunate to visit some wonderful friends at Oxford, all of whom are busy getting graduate degrees.  We ate inside a dining hall with long wooden tables and dark oil portraits on the walls.  I kept waiting for Hagrid to walk in.  Oxford is a beautifully strange place.  While rife with history, literature, and genuine prestige, I got the impression that the experience one has there, both inside the classroom and out, is somewhat insular.  Theoretical knowledge is grand, but when and where does the nitty-gritty happen?  We need more smart people to go out and get their hands dirty.  I know my friends absolutely will, and I’m proud of them.

The most wonderful experience I have had so far on this trip was seeing the Oxford Symphony perform in the Sheldonian Theatre on Oxford’s campus.  They played Mozart, Gershwin, and Strauss in an incredibly intimate setting.  I was definitely velklempt at the sheer beauty of it.

You know what else rocks?  Scones.  The English know how to do tea time right.

Taking a train-bus combination from Oxford to Brighton was remarkably picturesque.  It was snowing, and looked like a Grandma Moses painting.

I was surprised by how much I loved Brighton.  Our hotel had Freddie Mercury quotes all over the walls, reminding me how much I owe the British for their music.  The city itself was quaint, with street art covering the sides of plenty of buildings.  You could see how much of a wonderful escape Brighton must be in the summer time.  It was nice to hear sea-gulls again.

Gangsta chess, anyone?

Back in London, we definitely enjoyed ourselves at the theatre, seeing two plays and one musical (Billy Elliot, of course).  Once we were able to understand the accents, we got into the dry sense of humor that is quintessentially English.  Hilarious, really.  Most of the taxi drivers we had made us laugh hysterically, giving my Mom the idea that I should write a book about all of the conversations I’ve had with taxi drivers during my travels.  From the experiences I had with taxi drivers in Chile, to the conversations we’ve had on this trip, I think I already have a pretty intense endeavor ahead of me.  It could be called ¨The Gift of Cab: Insight from Taxi Drivers from Around the World,¨or maybe something less cheesy and long.