The moment we arrived in Oxford, I felt a great fusion between the past and present. The centuries-old buildings stood tall, carrying the weight of history and the sternness of truth, yet the air felt light and pleasant. There was the gravity of the past and the energy of youth all around us.
We made our way into the Bodleian’s Old Quadrangle.
Surrounded by stone walls and arched windows, I felt small in the best way. These buildings had been here for hundreds of years. They’ve witnessed so many lives pass through—students, scholars, dreamers. Just standing there made me pause and reflect.
We walked toward the entrance of the Divinity School, Oxford’s oldest lecture hall, built in the 1400s. I imagined the debates and questions that had filled the space. It’s the kind of place that reminds you how long humans have been trying to understand the world and our place in it.
I was thrilled at the thought of entering the Bodleian Library. It’s one of the oldest libraries in Europe, and I had been looking forward to stepping inside. But when I reached the ticket counter, I was told the day’s entries were already sold out.
I was truly disappointed.
We were only staying in Oxford for one night. This might be my only chance for a long time. But then I reminded myself—no trip is ever perfect. And maybe a little disappointment is what keeps the door open for a return visit. In my mind, I already began planning to come back.
Before heading out, we walked past the Clarendon Building, where Oxford University Press once operated. Its classical columns and solid stone structure gave the impression of quiet confidence—of ideas made to last.
And life, being what it is, had a surprise waiting.
Inside a lively covered market, while browsing for lunch, I stumbled upon the tiniest bookstore tucked between food stalls. A sign said: “Free Hot Drink When You Buy a Book From Any Table.” I walked in.
The space was small but full of color and warmth. Tables were stacked with fresh paperback fiction. There was a soft buzz of conversation and the comforting smell of coffee. I browsed, picked a book, and found a little spot to sit.
That unexpected moment—quiet, sweet, and simple—stayed with me.
Maybe that’s how life works. Sometimes we miss the grand thing we came for. But if we keep walking, something small and beautiful might be waiting just around the corner.