It looks close-ish on the map -- just beyond Heathrow Airport -- but all told, with the walking, buses, and train, it's almost a two hour trek in each direction.
This is Waterloo Station, the cavernous space on the South Bank where I catch my train. Because I was going against London's commuter traffic, I had no problem finding a seat, but had a heckuva time beating my way through the crowds to get to the (deserted, outbound) platform.
Royal Holloway was originally created as a women's college by a chap with a penchant for French architecture. This is the main building where Victorian ladies would study and live -- with their maids. I call it "The Chateau".
The Geography Department is housed down the road in a modern, neo-Tudor building. I think it's from the 1950s. Here's the interior courtyard.
Royal Holloway is a walled campus and seems to have little connection with the town of Egham... a surprise, as usually you find more economic spill-over from universities to the surrounding area. None of the grad students or professors I talked to live in Egham.
I pass these bungalows on my walk from Egham station.
These were the first power lines I saw since arriving in England. They are usually tidily kept underground.
If it all looks a little bleak and remote, fear not, I may rarely be making the excursion to Egham. My research cluster meets at Royal Holloway's Bloomsbury outpost in Bedford Square -- a five minute walk from my flat -- and my supervisor is more than willing to meet at my local pub.
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