A post Christmas gift to our Inklings. Road tripping to Oxford. Magdalen College. Old books. Dinner at Eagle and Child.  Oxford is not to be missed.  You can keep London.  I am still not sold. <g> But this.  THIS was a trip.The only thing I don't have good photos of was Tolkien's grave which was an adventure in itself.  

We left Oxford proper just before dark.  The cemetary was ten minutes away and was to close 30 min after we found it.  One gate in and out.  In the States this would have been no problem.  A celebrity grave would have been guarded and lit it like Broadway.  Here?  Well, for one, celebrity has a whole 'nuther meaning and you get no special treatment.  And no special marking for visitors to find you by.  

We began in the center of the cemetary and each took a path outwards trying to match the picture we had with one of the hundreds of headstones before us before complete darkness set in. It got a little eery after tripping over gravesite planters with candles sending off shifting shadows. Finally we found him – or them.  Tolkien is buried with his beloved in a very simple nondescript grave. It was a bit overgrown and covered with a bit of memorabilia left by grateful readers.  On the headstone someone had left a tiny lego Hobbit. 

Perfect.