My birthday is on June the 3rd and since living
in Oxford I have usually celebrated it with my wife by attending a few lectures
in the city, a musical gig or two and hearty few pints of real ale. This year
there was nothing on: no lectures of interest and no music – the only thing to
be relied upon was the beer. Then I clicked on the film section of the local
event guide and soon had my day sorted!
First off was a viewing of The Salt Path at our nearest
cinema: the Phoenix in Jericho. This was our first outing to an actual cinema
to view an actual film for years, and I hated it. Almost an hour of adverts and
previews before the film actually started, and the two women next to me were
eating, talking and spilling parts of themselves onto my seat, we moved.
Then the film started and I was transported. The big screen,
the powerful sound system plus a film based on a true story that I could relate
to: a mature couple walking the South West Coast Path. They were walking to escape from
the awful reality of losing their home. I could not of course relate to that, but
I had walked part of the path myself some years ago. The film tells a tale of
great hardship but has a happy ending. I did smirk at some of the details such
as the lightness of their backpacks and choice of camping spots, but that, I
suppose, was nit-picking.
After that we had a cup of tea then rushed over to the
Beecroft Physics Building on the edge of the University Parks for something
called Quantum Apparitions. It began with weird readings by a motley assortment
of students/academics accompanied by equally weird sections of film. Then we
were given coloured pencils (water soluble) and paper and encouraged to draw the
person next to us! That was a great ice-breaker of course. My partner was a hirsute
young post-grad from Greece (theoretical study of two-dimensional materials!) with
long black locks and matching beard. Our drawings were then doused in water
which apparently introduced us all to the concept of uncertainty. Here’s mine!
We rushed uncertainly to the Internet Centre of the University
in St Giles to watch a film called Life in Oxford. The title was misleading; in
fact we were shown a series of unconnected clips which centred very much on a seemingly
shunned or neglected section of the city characterised by colour or poverty.
There were interviews with people who originated from other countries who
wanted a place of their own where they could celebrate their own culture and
more with people who had dropped out of society and were now sadly on the streets.
We left early for a celebratory birthday pint in the Grapes
where we met a stranger who was also celebrating his birthday. He wanted to buy
us a drink, but we walked on to the Orange and Lemons for another nice pint of
the real stuff.
Then up to the James Street Tavern on the Cowley Road, a road
which must be one of the most racially diverse in the city. A man at this pub
was showing short films, but he spent over an hour getting ready to do so
providing an opportunity for more beer and casual conversation. First chat was with
a lady from Austria who did not like her home country and had settled in Oxford.
She had excellent English but told us that she was studying the language under
the man who ran the films. Then a man that I know from the music scene came in.
He has an unusual curly moustache and
hails from Georgia. He insisted on buying me a birthday pint! Good man.
The short film finally ran. It was a close up, full strength,
interview between a fictional female interviewer and someone pretending to be
the President of America. Hmmm. The next film was of no interest so we left.
We had a nice tempura meal in Sushi Corner, a Japanese restaurant
in the Cowley Road, then wobbled home. That was a really good way to spend my birthday
– I was filmed-out by the end of it. I also lost my knapsack containing our
umbrellas somewhere along the way. That’s a sign of a good birthday.
It’s now 20 years since I qualified as an Oxford guide and
there have been many happy experiences, however a recent Bodleian tour will
stay with me forever. A teenage girl and her family were on the tour, and towards
the end I noticed that she was busily drawing in her notebook. Later I asked
her what she had drawn and, smiling, she said, “You”. She tore the sheet out of
her notebook and gave me the portrait. I was touched and insisted on giving her
one my books on the Rogues of Oxford which she asked me to sign. A creative exchange
of sorts.
