The other night, us Magdalen law kids were invited to a High Table Dinner with the Fellows. At the risk of sounding like a polar explorer from the 1920s, bouncing a grandkid on his knee and reminiscing about Antarctic otherworldliness, now THAT was an experience.
Rumour mongering has got to be my favourite kind of mongering. Unlike fishmongering, for example, it doesn’t require you to deal with nose-wrinkling sea-stench or develop fleshy forearms fit for ripping out fish guts.
One of the neatest things about Oxford is all the lore surrounding it; in terms of goss, the city is sashimi grade.
As a general rule I choose to believe absolutely everything I hear. I’m so impressionable that my Mum took it upon herself to sit me down at the age of 12 to break the bad news that Santa Claus isn’t real, for fear that I’d be teased at high school. Totally unnecessary – my mushroom-shaped haircut took care of that (I was the fungified version of football-headed Hey Arnold…‘Hey Mushroom Head!’). Anyway, whenever I overhear Oxford tour guides addressing groups with ‘According to legend…’ I collect their little gossip nuggets and pass them on like the Ronald McDonald of apocrypha.
My favies so far: Continue reading
The first thing I did upon arrival at college was beeline for the deer park. This was criterion numero uno in selecting Magdalen so it behooved me (yup, pun intended) to confirm that I hadn’t made a horrible mistake (e.g. that The Grove was just a petting zoo with one sullen mule deer). Fear not! I was met with a bountiful meadow of frolicking white-tippetty Bambis. Pretty sure I also spotted some singing cartoon mice and butterflies.
I’m still swooning over how beautiful the grounds are and how rich the college’s history is. Highlights: Continue reading