May Day in Oxford

This past week was May Day, which is a bank holiday in the UK, so those of us on this side of the drink had Monday off of work (in observance).  Oxford, in particular, toasts May Morning with its own brand of celebration, so this year Fi & I rose before the dawn in order to take part.

5 a.m.
The alarm clock sounds, disrupting the mere 3.5 hours of sleep Fi & I'd managed by then.  The night before we'd attended the ballet (Manon--Thanks, M!) in London, and following that, we drove back to Oxford afterward, putting us in OX2 around 115 in the morning & ensuring a short, short slumber.

Scandalous, yet awesome.

530 a.m.
Dressed & espressoed, Fi & I left the apmt & repaired toward Magdalen College, which is about 30 mins' trek from our place.  As we drew closer, it became clear that quite a few Oxonians shared in our agenda.  By the time we'd made our way down the High Street, droves of people had compacted into one massive congregation, all but blocking the road.

6 a.m.
May Morning begins with the Magdalen College Choir belting out the Hymus Eucharisticus from atop the Magdalen Tower, which activity officially inaugurates the day's celebrations.  I've heard tell that in years past their singing was quite faint, just loud enough to hear over the rabble below.  Now, however, the music is fed through an amplification system, so everyone in the postal code & his dog can hear. 

630 a.m.
The choir finished, so it was high time to head to the pub.  Most pubs in the vicinity opened early for the occasion, so we tried the Turf Tavern first.  As luck would have it, the landlord had decided against serving alcohol that morning, only offering breakfast to his weary customers.  This just wouldn't do, so we defaulted to the King's Arms, hallowed Oxford institution of higher tippling.

Highest IQ per ft² of any pub in the world

645 a.m.
Sure enough, the KA came through for us.  After a lengthy wait amongst many sober, buzzed, getthing-there, & completely hammered patrons, I finally secured us a couple of pints of Young's Double Chocolate Stout, the cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast.  Even after years of shameful dipsomania at UT & NYU, I do believe this was the first time I'd drunk beer at 645 in the morning.

God bless.

745 a.m.
Settling into my groove, next I tried a pint of Young's Royal Wedding Celebration beer, the Prince of Ales.  Here's to you, Kate & Wills.  Fi went for Thatcher's Gold, a sparkling cider produced in Somerset.  It's made by people who care.

845 a.m.
Last call at the KA, &, much to our dismay, most every other pub in town.  It's only responsible that beermen don't enable us by serving continuously all day, I guess.  Not having eaten anything substantial by then, Fi & I were in desperate need of some real vittles.

915 a.m.
We immediately thought of trying The Big Bang first.  It's a delightful sausage den on Walton Street, just down the road from OUP & within easy hike of the King's Arms.  Luckily, they were open & serving.

 Breakfast of Champions

1015 a.m.
Stuffed to the brim with eggs, beans, & bangers, Fi suggested we seek out some Morris dancing, an English folk custom which I'd yet to witness.  Oh man.  Was I in for a treat.  We consulted the interwebs, who advised us to hightail it for the landing in front of the Ashmolean, where cohorts of Morris dancers were scheduled to boogie down at 1030.

 Waving white flags?

1030 a.m.
Good Lord.

11 a.m.
Someone was even dressed as a tree.

That foliage is real!

1130 a.m.
More Morris dancing, for good measure:

12 p.m.
We'd done it up right for nearly 7 hours now, so after an action-packed antemeridiem, Fi & I rewarded ourselves with a little snooze at the apmt.  I'd appraise it a successful May Morning, with just the right balance of novelty, tradition, & strong drink.

That's all for now.  Thanks for tuning in!