Goodbye Oxford
Saying farewell to my home of 55 years
Come 22 December 2020 we’ll be departing Oxford (finally) for our new home in Dorset.
Thank Christ. I’m so ready for our move and really glad to be leaving Oxford behind.
This attitude is more than likely my way of coping with change, in the same way that writing a list of reasons to leave a job is a formative and positive thing. I wonder how I will feel in a year’s time, and if I’ll write an “I miss you Oxford” companion post to this.
The format (and tone) of this farewell was inspired by The Slate penning individual goodbyes for each member of the Trump administration after the 2020 American election. Well, not exactly like that
Goodbye students
We’ve shared an uncomfortable space for too long, haven’t we? You’re great for Oxford’s economy (allegedly) but a disaster for its housing market, with every 10th home filled to the brim with you all renting. At times you’ve been wonderfully friendly, and at others completely self-centred and inconsiderate.
Having lived next door to a houseful of you for 17 years now I’m sure you won’t mind if we part ways forever and I shout a final “fucking students” after you?
Goodbye hard water
Oh limescale, how shall I miss you? Let me count the ways….zero. There was a time that we thought any holiday away from Oxford resulted in rejuvenating powers on our skin; the relaxation, the sunshine etc. But no, it was getting away from washing in Oxford’s hard, scummy water. Our kettle said to say “cheerio” too.
Goodbye mattresses in front gardens
You’ve been an *interesting* addition to the streets of Oxford, gracing my walks to work over the years. I’ve never ceased to be amazed at how many of you there are, all year round. Is anyone coming to actually take you away, or are you just hanging out in front gardens to be sociable? Swapping pocketed spring-based conversations with each other as you call across the street? I do hope you find new homes, or that someone actually takes you to that great mattress store in the sky.
Goodbye parking on pavements
Weren’t you just the cleverest solution to the lack of space on Oxford’s roads? Moving cars to take up space on pavements so that pushchairs and wheelchairs have no real chance of getting past. Still, lots of lovely room for the cars now, isn’t there? I will miss that jarring thump mounting the kerb, attempting to position my car between dotted lines just so. But not “miss it” in a fond way, you understand.
Goodbye North Oxford
You were the aspirational part of Oxford, perpetually out of reach, both financially and socially, to nearly everyone else. So often associated with angry “Dear Sir” letters to the local paper, private schools and houses as large as hotels, you were the ‘necessary’ side of the diverse mix of income levels across the city. Well, we had to stash all those University Dons somewhere.
There’s probably a version of you in every town or city, sometimes with gates I expect.
Goodbye Port Meadow
I know many Oxford residents feel you are an unspoiled jewel of open space in the city, but I’ve always found you to be a boggy, boring stretch of nothingness with the occasional horse wandering around. And didn’t everyone get excited about the adjacent student housing ‘ruining’ the view of you (see Goodbye North Oxford)? I didn’t.
Goodbye Florence Park
You were a huge part of my childhood, taking me back to a time when parents thought the world safe enough to let children play by themselves until dusk. I played football in you (badly). I caught leaves falling from your trees in Autumn. I played hide and seek with friends. And more recently I picnicked with a sneaky bottle of wine on summer afternoons in you with my wife. You’re a beautiful space full of families, laughter and play and I’ll miss you.
I leave you in the safe and capable hands of Friends of Florence Park and the lovely Flo’s cafe. Truth be told, you were always far more lovely than Port Meadow.
Goodbye South Park
The open spaces theme and our love for (most of) them continues, which says a lot about why we’re moving to a rural location.
So turning to you now, South Park, and your magnificent (protected) views of the Oxford spires, which never fail to take my breath away. I’ll remember with fondness (and incredulity) the fact that I watched Radiohead play on your grounds in 2001 and more recently the Common People festival.
Although the drainage in the lower field was always a problem.
Goodbye The Thames/Isis
Your were Oxford’s hidden (green) motorway, filled with bicycles, narrow boats, walkers, runners, dogs and rowers. Breathtakingly beautiful on a misty morning. Impossible to walk along post-work for the volume of cyclists. Home to the Isis Farmhouse and the best view from any pub garden.
Goodbye Oxford Drupal User Group
As a fresh-faced, newly appointed digital manager I recall nervously wandering along to your scary club full of tech professionals, talking about things like web hooks and Composer. But it didn’t matter I wasn’t that up to speed on the tech as you were about swapping stories and experiences, not to mention the beer and crisps laid on by the lovely Agile Collective crew.
Ah, Agile Collective….will I always be your ‘most valued client’? You will be amongst my most valued friends, as it happens.
Goodbye May Morning
You truly were the event that involved getting up stupidly early once a year to hear a bunch of privileged kids sing hymns from up a tower, while hundreds of students milled around below, hopelessly drunk after being up all night at expensive, exclusive college balls. For you the word ‘overrated’ seems too generous. A grand tradition? Perhaps. But there are better ones..
Goodbye Cowley Road Carnival
You were the celebration of the ‘other’ Oxford, untainted by privilege, and celebrating the diversity of the city in a way that none of its other events seem to. A mess of colour, noise, food, laughter, tolerance, absurdity and fun. You were the beating heart of East Oxford, capturing its vibrancy and energy.
Did you ever think you’d go from being an upstart event to an institution? One that has been shown to add to the economy of the area? You, for me, are the antidote to May Morning and long may you continue.
Goodbye Christchurch Meadow
You were the special treat on a walk to work; a route away from cars, noise and pollution to a place of beauty and tranquility.
We loved to watch you change through the seasons, watching the sports pitches changing from football to cricket, and realising we were very lucky not only to be able to walk to work but to have views like yours to enjoy on the way, right in the middle of the city.
Goodbye Marston Heating Parts
You actually closed down years ago, but we kept your name alive as a tribute through renaming other nearby shops; Marston Paper Parts (newsagent), Marston Petrol Parts (BP garage) and Marston Chip Parts (the takeaway). No one else finds this funny but you still make us laugh.
Goodbye Burrow
We christened you with that name to show how retreating into you was our escape from the outside world. Somewhere to be safe and stay sane. You were the home we designed, built and furnished together. I may have called you our “two up, two down victorian terrace slum” but actually I sort of loved you a bit. It’s not you, it’s me.
Actually, it *is* you — you’re just too small and in the wrong place
Goodbye lopsided toilet roll holder
You have come to represent the true reason we need to move house; my inability to successfully carry out DIY, and the entropy of the house itself. You come from a long line of lopsided toilet roll holders, each replacing the last, each time with a sense of “this time it will be better”. I suspect your new owner hasn’t yet spotted you or the other DIY disappointments that surround you;
You will be missed as much as your best friends:
- flakey bathroom wall paint
- creaking floorboards downstairs
- toilet door that doesn’t lock
- sticky kitchen drawer
- disappointing built-in bookcase
Goodbye cat
It’s a shame you had to be locked into a cupboard secretly just before we left, but it was far better than taking you with us*
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
OK, I’m pushing this format a bit too far. Time to stop or Elton will sue. The whole Princess Di/funeral version etc
*did not actually happen. No stupid, fluffy animals were harmed in the writing of this blog post
