It was a long and tiring flight to England. Not only was our plane more than two hours late in leaving Chicago, but we also had to wait for a half an hour once we landed until a gate became open. After that it becomes pure Heathrow Hell: the arrival hall at Heathrow’s international terminal (terminal 5) is a house of horrors, with only a handful of immigration agents servicing a horde of tired and antsy travelers. Hurry up and wait an hour! I still think Heathrow is the worst major airport I’ve ever visited.

On the other hand, I watched several good movies on the plane, including “Suffragette” with Carey Mulligan (well worth watching, Meryl Streep has a cameo), and “Everest“, recounting the 1996 mountain disaster described in Jon Krakauer’s bestseller Into Thin Air. (It’s a movie well worth watching if you like mountains and climbing; I loved seeing the Everest region again, my favorite place on Earth, even though the story is horrific and heartbreaking.) Out of curiosity, I also watched “Amy“, a documentary about the singer Amy Winehouse (by the way, she lived in Camden Square next door to my biologist friend Steve Jones, who used to complain bitterly about the paparazzi). Packed with clips from Winehouse’s life and a lot of her live performances, I found it fascinating and sad.  I knew little about Winehouse, but found her a terrific jazz singer. A great pity about the drugs. . .

And then on to Oggsford, where it cost 24 pounds to take the one-hour bus ride from Heathrow. That’s always the first indication that this country is, relative to the U.S., expensive. Average salaries are lower here, but transportation and food are either on par or even higher than U.S. prices. It’s a good thing there’s free medical care and good government services. I haven’t yet had my first pint, but I shudder to think what it costs these days. I’m guessing about four pounds.

Still, the medieval spires of Oxford glowed gold in the special sunlight that follows a morning thunderstorm, and it’s good to be here. I’ve had a proper cup of tea with ginger biscuits (“cookies” to us Yanks), a reminder that England still bests the U.S. in the biscuit department.  Among many, there are cow biscuits, Boasters, McVitie’s chocolate digestive biscuits, ginger biscuits studded with chunks of candied ginger, fig rolls, and my favorite: Garibaldis, also known as “squashed fly biscuits” (see below). For those who turn up their noses at the food here, read Orwell’s “In Defense of English Cooking.”

I know what I’ll be looking for: good pub lunches, fish and chips, Indian food by Euston Station, and a big hunk of Keen’s Farmhouse Cheddar to take home.