I’d visited Oxford several times before. The first time, about 12 years earlier, I’d been part of a BBC course. As part of an organized tour we visited famous colleges like Christ Church and St John’s, and pretty much all of the touristy, pretty parts of the town. But to their credit, the tour organizers made sure we saw the deprived parts like Blackbird Leys, so that we did not go away with a one-dimensional, prettified view of Oxford.

There is the romance of the Dreaming Spires, but many others will only ever be able to dream.
There is real poverty, particularly in northern pockets of the town. So while on Friday nights the streets are awash with late-teen children of the great and good of Great Britain learning to get drunk on cheap lager, there are other, life-toughened children from poorer families who already know how to.
It’s a striking contrast. Henry will leave Balliol with the self-confidence that the well bred and well educated have, and take path to sure success, probably in the City or at the Bar. Henry from Blackbird will tread his own, predetermined path. There are exceptions, of course, but it’s a terrible indictment on the British schooling system that there aren’t enough.

Anyway enough of this downbeat stuff. Oxford is a very beautiful, historic town. As Andrey and I walked back to Saïd after registering at St Anne’s College, Andrey, a Muscovite, kept shaking his head and laughing.
“It’s like out of a fairy tale”, he said.

EMBA 6 has really taken to Oxford. Colleges are a unique part of life in old uni towns like Oxford and Cambridge. Scarves with the college crests were bought. One colleague flaunted her distinct green and white Jesus College scarf.  She allowed me to wear it for a while.

We quickly sussed out the watering holes— special mention must go to the indefatigable Warren. The catalyst for many things social after class, and sharp, focused and prepared next morning.

Just past Trinity College on the other side of the road is The Turf. It’s like a labyrinth— a maze of cozy little rooms. Quaint. Old. Very English. Some good lagers and bitters there. I like Village Idiot.