In Flanders fields...

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

We remember.

Oxford, we finally meet

After years of longing to visit the bustling academic city, I finally made my way to Oxford this time last year. I'd first learned about the famous English metropolis from a television program almost 20 years ago and had always wanted to visit, but never got the chance, even while in Harlow ten years ago.

I made the trip last November and spent a few days exploring the beautiful spot with a couple of friends of mine. From colleges to cream tea, it was pretty much everything I'd imagined and everything I'd hoped for. My time there was short, though, so I'm looking forward to going back again in the (hopefully) not-so-distant future.

Hello, Heathrow

A year ago, I landed safely at Heathrow airport; back in England after a long absence. I couldn't believe I was finally there again. There's something about England that gives me butterflies - an excitement that I can barely contain. As soon as I saw that welcome sign outside the airport, the butterflies came pouring back into my system and didn't leave for another two weeks.

I think John Keats said it best: 

"Happy is England! I could be content, To see no other verdure than its own; To feel no other breezes than are blown, Through its tall woods with high romances blent..."