I am no longer the only person in Oxford not tripping into canals and shouting: "I say there Peregrine! Look here! I seem to have regurgitated this morning's breakfast on the sidewalk. How continental of me!


Oxford, cleared of the riff-raff, is the most beautiful city in all of England (Total of cities seen 2. But Oxford wins by default for not smelling of urine).


It is stacked with colleges where really famous people lounged around clutching teddy bears and exchanging long, sexually charged glances with each other. *

* Source: Brideshead Revisited miniseries. The one with the young, smouldering Jeremy Irons.


Being a pleb without a cape, I was merely allowed to walk around the colleges and not enter into their secret gardens where I assume they were having a Cambridge University Press book burning.


I wondered why I felt so tall walking around Oxford and then I realized that no one was wearing high heels. And then I stumbled on the shiny, smooth rock sidewalk and when my face met walkway, I realized why.


The cover of every single local interest book written about Oxford ever.


Apparently a very posh college where rich people go. This was close as I dared approach. I feared they'd be able to smell my eau de colonial.


Some sort of learning dome. Very Kubla Khan.


Oxford Castle with their new "tourist attraction" which was, as far as I could fathom without paying 5 pounds to find out, is a big hill. A big hill with grass on it.

Oooo... I cannot reach for my wallet fast enough to experience the bottomless pleasures of the big grassy hill.


The castle whose effect was slightly diminished by the "Pizza Express" store built into the left turret.


Here are the "famous dreaming spires of Oxford" that my guide book would not shut up about.


Play the man, Master Ridley; we shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out. - Hugh Latimer

My favourite Protestant martyrs (Ridley and Latimer of course. Cranmer was like the sequel that was okay but they got some other cheaper actor to replace the original lead and he wasn't nearly as good looking. Cranmer is the Speed II of the Protestant martyr collection) were fried to crisp here by Mary I for not liking the pope as much as they should have.

I ate a really decent chicken salad sanwhich on their memorial.



More of those spires. If you're a really spire fanatic, I cannot recommend Oxford enough to you. There are some choice spires on the High Street.


Bodleian Library which was completely book-free on the outside.


Canals for the drunks to drown in.


Punts for drunken to punt.


The most hardcore lamppost.


$120 for missing the trashcan. Someone should tell the Chewing Gum Action Group that 1984 is not actually a guidebook on how to run your shire.