Unsurprisingly, England still feels really new to me. Somehow, I don’t quite fit in as a local after forty-eight hours (Okay, that’s letting myself off easy – somehow the English know I’m an American from 20 feet away – something to do with the loudness of my voice). I’m still in awe of how old and how pretty everything is, and still make sure to take a camera wherever I go (You never know when you might happen upon the site where Boyle discovered Boyle’s Law, after all).

Nonetheless, it is starting to set in that this is my new reality: soon, I’ll know the fastest route from Worcester to Queen Elizabeth House, where to find the tastiest curry, and the best tree under which I can sit and read (and not get yelled at by the Porters). It’s not home yet, and it might never be, but it’s exciting to think about settling in.

Oh, shut up. On with the pictures. Here’s one of Worcester College.

Oxford’s library: I’m sure I will eventually get annoyed at the fact that it is non-circulating and closed stack, but for now, it’s pretty.

Queen Elizabeth House is the home of the International Development program… and probably me, on most nights, if my reading list is to be believed.

I live on a quaint, extremely English-seeming street right outside the college, with four housemates.

Jackie took all these pictures until I stole her camera because she was on the phone (she, unlike me, actually knows people in England).