Oxford: the epitome of romantic England

Deep down, every Englishman wants to live in Oxford.

It encapsulates the English idyll--honey-coloured colleges, draping willows, meandering rivers, leering gargoyles, and green quadrangles. The greeness of the country rolls into town and contrasts with ancient medieval colleges sprinkled with spires, statues, and cloisters.

Oxford University's reputation for academic excellence precedes it and makes it one of the greatest universities in the world. It is a world unto itself. Academics spend their lives in sleepy private studies, bowler-hatted porters guard the gates, and an international population rushes around trying to be on time for lectures.

Whenever I go there I am struck by the colour of the city. Most of the colleges are made from a beautiful honey-coloured stone called Oolite which, when it ages, begins to crumble and makes the buildings look exceptionally ancient. The effect of this decay is quite picturesque. It's also one of the greenest cities I have ever visited--the colleges have hung onto their ancient meadows and parks to create countryside on their doorstep complete with deer parks and swan-filled rivers.

You need at least two days for Oxford and, as you wander around, you will succumb to the gentle way of life here. A lazy morning on the green lawns of a college, a cycle ride along the Cherwell, carols in Christchurch Cathedral and some truly exceptional pubs. Oxford is the most English of cities and its cosy cloistered life is very seductive.

If you only see one British city outside of London--let it be Oxford.

Quick Tips:

Oxford has one of the most famous skylines in the British Isles. The 'dreaming spires' have been photographed in enough BBC dramas to be recognizable to people all over the world. While Cambridge follows the contours of a river, Oxford lies at the confluence of two rivers--the Cherwell and the Isis. Stretching between the two is spectacular High Street, where the most impressive colleges are found. More colleges are north of 'The High,' including the baroque centerpiece, Radcliffe Square, which is truly a must for the visitor. To the south is the huge Christchurch College and the water meadows formed by the Thames. At the eastern end of 'The High' is the Georgian Magdalen bridge which arcs across the Cherwell to the student quarter of Jericho.

Oxford is primarily a good city to meander in. It almost invites visitors to stick their heads into echoing cloisters, narrow alleys, and hidden gardens. There are numerous attractions in the surrounding area and it makes a good base for touring the Cotswolds and Thames Valley.

If you want understand the heart and soul of England - well, this city comes very close.

Best Way To Get Around:

Reaching and getting around the town of Oxford is relatively simple. Trains arrive from London's Paddington station every 30 minutes and cost £20-return. There are direct trains and buses from Heathrow and Gatwick airports.

My favourite way of reaching the 'city of spires' is via the 'Oxford Tube'. This fleet of double-decker coaches runs around the clock and costs £10-return--half the price of the railway. It starts at Victoria Station, then hits Marble Arch and Shepherds Bush before taking the M40 to Oxford. The green countryside whizzes past, with sheep-filled fields, tiny hamlets, and herds of cows all visible from the windows.

Oxford City Council is very progressive and has recently banned private cars from 'The High' which is now only open to buses and taxis. Buses fan out from 'The High' with the Oxford bus company reaching Windsor, Stratford, Abingdon, Blenheim Palace (via Woodstock), and many other Cotswold towns.

And of course there is punting. Punts are available for hire at Magdalen and Iffley Bridge for about £20/hour. There is no better way to see Oxford than from the river at twilight

Everyone has a vision of Oxford in their mind's eye.

For some people it's dusty academics pouring over 14th-century first edition folios in antiquarian bookshops. To others, it's impoverished students in round spectacles engrossed in their copy of Descartes and hiding in bookshops to keep warm. Both of these stereotypes come to life in Blackwells.

Blackwells is an Oxford institution that began in 1879, in a shop so tiny that, when more then three people entered, the apprentice had to be sent outside. Now it is five shops--including Blackwells Cookery, Blackwells Music, Blackwells Paperback and Blackwells Children's--not more then 20 feet away from each other along the monumental Broad Street thoroughfare. From the outside they are undoubtedly beautiful, housed as they are in 18th-century buildings with bay windows and overhanging gables. But the original one still stands at 48-51 Broad Street next to exclusive Trinity College. It has been the policy of the management to encourage browsing and some of the famous customers that have obliged include Oscar Wilde, JRR Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Hilaire Beloc, George Bernard Shaw and one Anthony Blair.

Some of Oxford's famous literary stars are showcased on the ground floor, where the creators of Middle Earth, Narnia and The Mad Hatter's Tea Party have pride of place. Also on show here are beautiful coffee table books about Oxford as well as some lovely watercolours of Oxfordshire that are so pretty they may inspire you to visit the rest of the county.

Blackwells was also a publishing house for a time and some of its early authors became world famous--Tolkien, LP Hartley, and Robert Graves got their first chance thanks to Blackwells old publishing house.

Below ground is the gigantic Norrington Room--the bookstore's real treasure--that has been featured in the Guinness Book of World Records for being the biggest book repository in the world thanks to its 3 miles of shelves. If you can't find what you want here then it doesn't exist--that said, it may take you a long while to find it. For bibliophiles, the place is sheer heaven and it's a terrific place to lose yourself among a forest of books.

Blackwells takes pleasure in higher-learning, and each visitor can't help but be involved.

And isn't that what Oxford is all about?

Forget Hollywood, forget New Zealand--if you want to know the true home of Middle Earth, then come to this tiny pub on the road north out of Oxford. The ‘Eagle and Child,’ or ‘Bird and Baby’ as it is sometimes called, was the meeting place of ‘the Inklings,’ a set of Oxford literary figures such as C. S. Lewis, Neville Coghill, and Professor John Ronald Rule Tolkien, who would meet in the ‘Rabbit Room’ and read to each other excerpts from their work. For the visitor, it offers a vision of a world gone by--a world of open fires, hearty conversation, and good ale. And I can safely vouch that the food is good too.

The tavern itself dates from the 1620s, when it was the first inn to be encountered on the road north out of Oxford. It is named after the crest of the Earls of Derby and during the civil war was popular with royalist soldiers. To find it, you must head north from ‘The High’ along the magnificent St. Giles. This impressively wide street houses the cream-colored Balliol and St. John’s colleges, Ashmolean Museum, and the posh Randolph Hotel. St. Johns in particular has a beautiful medieval quadrangle, and it is worth sneaking past the porter to view its gargoyles and immaculate lawns. Tolkien was professor of Anglo Saxon at nearby Exeter College and used to wander over after lectures to read excerpts of his works to his friends. He lived in Oxford for 50 years until the attention of his fans became too much and he fled to Bournemouth.

If you read his works, then the simple things in life--country walks, a good pipe, a tankard of ale, and good company--come to the fore. The pub has this in abandon with a very narrow bar, rowing pictures on the walls, cider jugs on ledges, partitioned ‘snugs’ or alcoves, and reams of timbered wood. You can perch on wooden bar stools or take a table in the covered garden. The place is very quiet (broken only by a jukebox) and is a good place for a pint and a newspaper. Tweedy old men with walking sticks and berbers testify to its continued popularity with locals.

The range of ales is as good as expected with Bombardier, Old Speckled Hen, Theakstons, Ruddles, and Strongbow cider on tap. The food is exceptional, with Sunday roasts (£5.50), gammon and pineapple (£4.50), and huge melts of bacon and cheese (£4.75) that are almost too big for the plate. Frodo and Gandalf would certainly approve . . .

Way back in the eighties there was a television series called Inspector Morse. Our hero, played by John Thaw, solved murder mysteries in Oxford while driving around in his Jaguar, listening to Wagner and drinking real ale. Many scenes were filmed at the Turf Tavern which has the be the most enchanting pub in Oxford, and well worth going out of your way to find.

And finding it is half the fun. It is tucked behind Hertford College and the Holywell Road, and can be reached only by tiny alleys. If you are coming from the Radcliffe Camera then step under the Bridge of Sighs to New College Lane. The alley leading to the Turf Tavern is only a meter wide and on the north side of the street. If you follow it behind the college accommodation and gardens and take a swift left, you'll find the beer garden of the Turf Tavern. From the north is the better way, and once you have found your way to Holywell Street, it is just a sidestep to the south. The alley to look out for is Bath Place, which is only 2-feet wide and lined with cobbles. At the end is the pink Georgian hotel called, suitably, the Bath Hotel. But it is a passageway to the left you must look for. And this will bring you out into the beer garden of the Turf Tavern.

The Tavern goes back to the 13th century where it served not just as a hostelry, but an inn as well. It backs onto the ruins of the medieval city walls and its beer garden is on many levels with wooden benches. When you venture inside, you realize people must have been much smaller back in the 1200s as the ceiling is very low and covered in timber beams. The bar is in a horseshoe shape, allowing staff to serve patrons on either side of the tavern. The beers are good with Oxfordshire specialities such as Fuller and Bombadier on tap. There are also other ales and stouts such as Greene King, Old Peculiar, and the ever-popular Speckled Hen. For cider drinkers there is Dry Blackthorne and the mulled wine is good for cold winter afternoons.

The patrons are a mixture of students, locals, and tourists. It is a good place to bring mum and dad when they visit and the food is supposedly good. The usual British favorites of "chips with everything..." is available but I hear their Sunday roast dinner is a bargain at £5.50. It is a good pub for sitting back on one of its rickety wooden chairs and just talking. Students are adept at this and there is always a bunch of them in there flicking beermats at each other and after a few pints discussing the weighty issues of the day such as

"Who was the best James Bond?", "Which is the best college?", and most importantly "Who is buying the next round of drinks...?"

One of the good things about Oxford is that the countryside seems to invade the town. Nowhere is this more obvious then in the beautiful botanical garden off 'The High', just before Magdalen Bridge. The garden dates back to 1621 and houses 8,000 trees, flowers, and shrubs in 48 acres along the banks of the Cherwell. It's a peaceful retreat from the realities of modern Oxford; here, you can immerse yourself in a baroque garden of exceptional beauty.

Firstly, the garden was not set up for the aesthetic enjoyment of the populace--it was set up for botanical research by Oxford University. As England explorers traveled the world, different plants were sent back to university to be examined, categorised, and grown in the garden. The first head gardner--a German named Jacob Bobart--laid out the plants according to strict scientific categories.

The Botanic gardens are at the eastern part of 'The High'. The entrance is about £3 and payable at a small kiosk run by sweet old ladies. You won't be able to miss the entrance itself--it's a huge baroque marble gateway with statues of both Charles I and II. The centrepiece of this walled garden is a gushing fountain and, if you look behind it, you'll see the belltower of Magdalen College looming over everything.

The plants are at their best in the spring and summer when they become a riot of colour. 300-year-old walnut and chestnut trees watch over everything while plants from around the world burst into colour. Little black labels are next to each plant so you may find yourself bending down to examine Philesia Magnesia from Chile or Troilus Ancondia from the Himalaya. Whenever I come to the gardens and see these labels I imagine men in periwigs and britches cooing over plantpots and congratulating themselves on each plant. There are little benches dotted around the pools, fountains, and ornamental urns. The gardens are also home to many animals and you may see squirrels, jays, magpies, and robin redbreasts flitting around the flowerbeds.

At the end of the gardens are the greenhouses. Although not on the scale of Kew Gardens, these greenhouses are hundreds of years old and burst with tropical vegetation. The humid temperature allows oranges to grow year round, as well as orchids, papaya, palms, wild lemongrass, and South African fynbos. One greenhouse has flora from the world's desert regions--cactis that soar over your head, wild pineapples and enormous monkey puzzle trees.

One warning: if you go there on a cold day, your glasses will mist up very quickly. If this happens watch where you put your hands - not all plants are harmless.

To me the Oxford botanical garden is a beautiful evocation of another era. The era of Halley, Davenant, and Wren, when the science of botany was in its infancy and the forte only of dedicated enthusiasts. Tourists will find it one of the most beautiful sights in Oxford.

Sorry Piccadilly, apologies to Princes Street--the winner of the most jawdropping street in Britain has to be 'The High' in Oxford.

There is such a profusion of mind-blowing architecture here: soaring medieval spires, leering gargoyles, Tudor timber-framed houses, Regency and Georgian shops, sandstone colleges, Victorian pubs, and the green Chiltern hills on the edge of town. The attractions of Oxford are north and south of this main thoroughfare, but you may traverse it several times during your stay.

The best place to start is the center of Oxford: Carfax. This is where four streets meet--'the High' to the east, Queen Street to the west, St. Aldates to the south, and Cornmarket to the north. Looming over this ancient crossroads is the stone tower of Carfax, which was once part of St. Martins Church and was demolished to create more room. And hopefully it does--this is where the ebb and flow of life whooshes past in Oxford.

Cornmarket is the principal shopping street and has recently been pedestrianized over, allowing buskers to entertain the crowds. Shoppers dip into Laura Ashley, housed in a 16th-century Tudor gabled mansion, and Marks & Spencer, which takes pride of place in a Georgian row of houses. Oxford puts its history on display, but also finds more practical uses for it.

But if you begin here, you should really start with a trip up the Carfax Tower, which costs only £2. A tiny wooden spiral staircase takes you up through the tower's insides. You emerge on the roof of the church tower, where the four streets are laid out before you.

If you look south, then St. Aldates leads across the 'dreaming spires,' with Tom Tower of Christchurch dominating the view. To the east is the entire expanse of 'the High' in front of you, and on the road opposite is the ornate tracey of a Jacobean building now used as Lloyds bank. 'The High' curves, but visible are the dagger needle spire of St. Mary the Virgin, with the spires of All Souls as a backdrop. Finally, at the end is the church tower of Magdalen and the end of 'the High.' Hills rise above the city, covered in fields, farms, and sheep to prove that the countryside is never far away in Oxford.

Carfax Tower is currently under renovation and will not be open again until April 2003. But if you head east, along the northern side of the pavement you can explore the length of 'the High.' Traffic is now banned from the street, allowing the buses to move along quickly, and a pretty efficient park-and-ride system is now in force. 'The High' of Oxford isn't quite the sleepy thoroughfare it was at the time of Wren and Halley but it is certainly better then it was.

This part of the street is made up of shops -stationers, Varsity emporiums, tea shops, antiquarian bookshops, and the Oxford University Press, the publishers of the world-famous dictionary. One shop is primarily devoted to dictionaries, and I've seen students shudder as they walk past it.

More shudders are a little way along, with the indoor market on Golden Cross Street. I really like this warren of passages and stalls, as it has so many specialized things to buy--pipes and tobacco, fruit and vegetables, glassware, pewterware, Cornish pasties and fresh Devon cream, locally caught trout, and the most gruesome butcher I have ever seen. All butchers were once like this, and vegetarians will wince at braces of rabbits (coneys) and pheasants hanging up. Deer are also culled hereabouts, and full-grown bodies of red deer minus their heads and legs are dangling from the shop's rafters. Well, at least you know it's fresh.

A little further on, before Brasenose College backs onto the street, is the Mitre restaurant. This is one of Oxford's most ancient inns, dating from 1550, and it is debatable that Shakespeare could have drunk here. It was, of course, a great favorite of the deans of the university who used to come here and sample the wine. It is now a restaurant run by the Beefeater chain, which serves up steaks and burgers for a reasonable price. It gets busy at lunchtime with old ladies who need a break from their shopping on Cornmarket. A passage leading past it heads to Radcliffe Square, and there is usually a man offering tours of Oxford (for 5 pounds) leaning against the railings.

After Brasenose is a truly spectacular church--St. Mary the Virgin. Usually free to enter, this is still a center for Anglo-Catholicism in Oxford and was where the Protestant martyrs were put on trial. The big attraction here is the climb up the steeple for even more spectacular views of Oxford and the spire of All Souls from its heights. The nave itself is impressive, with a wooden ceiling and an altar decorated in gold. During the 1550s, Mary Tudor was trying to return England to Catholicism, and the Protestant martyrs Cramner, Latimer, and Ridley were taken here before their burning in Oxford. The word is that Queen Mary interjected personally to make sure the saintly Cramner was burnt.

Across the street are more cafes, stationers, hobby shops, computer dealers, and everything a student about town needs and wants. The vast block of University College dominates the south side here. Its cream-stone bulk is notoriously hard to get into and always seems to be closed to tourists. It also claims to be the oldest, founded by Alfred the Great in 1061, a claim which might not be true--but due to its central location, the other colleges probably spread out around it.

Almost opposite it is the rather feminine Queens College. It is best appreciated from across the road, with its huge baroque facade and dome dotted with marble statues. This is Oxford baroque at its best, and is named after Queen Phillippa, wife of Edward III. Rowan "Mr. Bean" Atkinson was one of its former students. Also make time for St. Edwards College, whose quadrangle is made out of beautiful stone. This is a real hidden treasure, and the students don't know how lucky they are to be working in a college that reminds me of a Cotswold cottage.

We are reaching the end of historic Oxford. And if you haven't yet been run over by a posh student on a bicycle, then there is one more beautiful college - Magdalen (pronounced Maudlin), whose church tower is the emblem of Oxford. Gargoyles leer down from its cream-colored sides, lead windows hide academic secrets, and a small path leads down to the Cherwell. Crossing at this point is the gorgeous Georgian Magdalen bridge, where the willow-tree-lined Cherwell passes into the botanic gardens.

At the base of the bridge, students in boaters try to lure tourists onto punts (tiny flat-bottomed boats propelled by a man with a pole) for about £20 an hour. On a warm sunny day, this is an enchanting way to see Oxford, as the Cherwell flows into the Thames and you can see the colleges from the river.

Alternatively, you can take over yourself and push your pole in the mud on the river. When it gets stuck, don't forget to let go, or you may find yourself dangling from the pole in the middle of the river. If that happens, then pray that nobody nearby has a camera.

There is something of a fairytale about Magdalen (pronounced Maudlin) College. On a misty morning when the medieval belltower looms above the trees and river, the sound of choristers singing Latin grace melts through the air and the whole place seems otherworldly.

For my mind, it is a toss-up between Magdalen and Merton for the title of most enchanting -Magdalen may just pip it - after all, Merton can't compete with it's Cherwell setting and very English deer park set at the rear. It is also one of the most popular colleges, and catches everyone's attention as they enter Oxford from the east across the Magdalen Bridge.

As an Oxford College it is abit of a newcomer - founded only in 1488 by William Waynflete, Bishop of Winchester. It was he who mispelt the name of the college on the founder''s statues as "Maudelyne," and today it is pronouced "Maudlin" instead of "Magdalen."

The makeup of the college still attests to those times--a President, seventy scholars, sixteen choristers, and twelve ordinary men. There are a mere 600 students and gaining a place at the college is a minor miracle--such is the demand. Undergraduates are taught in tutorials, often one-on-one, and the yellow stone buildings contain five ancient libraries some with books going back to 1493.

You can't miss Magdalen. It stands at the far eastern end of "the High" and its belltower (see photo) is a Oxford landmark. Originally built in 1492 and completed in 1509, it houses one of Oxford's most popular celebrations - the Mayday early morning Latin mass. "Te Deum" is sung in the tower on what is usually a chilly Mayday morning in a tradition that goes back to 1620s. It was discontinued in the 18th century as the students and populace got out of hand and threw rotting fruit at each other.

During the 1642-45 Civil War, Oxford was the Royalist stronghold and Magdalen, the front line. Its belltower was used for spotting approaching Parliamentarian troops. However, the city was never attacked.

Entrance to Magdalen is about £3.00 and is at the discretion of the college authorities. Often it is closed in the mornings and visitors are not allowed in until 1pm. But take heart--this is one college you should make the effort to see. Once through, you are given a map and pamphlet and let into the magnificent St. John''s Quadrangle (see photo). Honey-colored stone buildings surrounding a cobbled courtyard greet you along with leering gargoyles.

Statues of kings guard the passages into the colleges and all around you is the whoosh of students rushing to tutorials. Up high on the ivy-covered walls of the college is an outdoor pulpit where a sermon is preached on the nearest Sunday to the feast of St. John the Baptist.

While to the left is the usually out-of-bounds St. Swithins Halls and Presidents buildings, the green lawns of the quadrangle are worth a peek. But most people backtrack to the turning near the entrance and the chaplain''s quadrangle. This is surrounded by ancient carved gothic stone tracery and statues of Christ looking down at you--but more importantly is the entrance to the esteemed chapel.

Most visitors lose their breath when entering here as there is too much detail to really take in. The chapel itself is protected behind a rood screen, so visitors can''t get near the altar, carvings, or choir stalls, but there is so much to see in the stone ante-chapel. The West window is made of magnificent stained glass dating back to 1637. To its left is a copy of The Last Supper by Giampetrino. By the door is a beautiful painted box dating from the 15th century--and who doesn''t love a good tomb? Here lies the founder of the cathedral, Richard Patten, who lies with arms crossed and looking up with a vacant expression, permanently bemused by all the tourists looking at him.

The passage to the right of St. John's Quadrangle, leading to the Cloister Quadrangle, this is one of the loveliest in Oxford. A beautifully kept green lawn is surrounded by a medieval cloister and ivy-clad cream buildings. Statues of kings and gargoyles watch the students lazing on the lawns whilst the cloisters echo with the sound of tourists.

The ever-creeping growth of the wisteria plant clambers over everything--holy statues of the saints glare down on the sinners. And numerous sinners have attended Magdalen--most famously Edward VIII (Bertie the Bounder) and Oscar Wilde, and as well as such paragons of virtue such as Cardinal Wolsey, Dudley Moore, and Sir John Betjeman. Here lie many tutorial rooms and if it is not in use, the dining room is worth a look with huge portraits on the walls and the smell of roast beef and gravy lingering in the air.

By this time you may need some fresh air and if you leave the cloisters via the eastern exit, the gardens follow the river Cherwell and upstream a small bridge takes you to Addison Walk and the college watermeadows. But most people head for the baroque New College buildings - "new" meaning" built in 1733. The vast lawn is usually strewn with students with their heads in books and the building itself was the workplace for Edward Gibbon and CS Lewis as well as seven Nobel Prize winners.

I like the tree on the edge of the green planted in 1801 to celebrate the peace of Amiens. The tree is withered and gnarled and reeks of ancient Oxford. When I first came here in 1989 I remember getting shouted at by one of the porters as I swung on one of its branches.

My memories of seeing the deer park a little further on are still fresh. Back then it was rutting season and the meadow rang to the sounds of clashing stags. The harts are still there from July to September, and the herd numbers around sixty. While Bambi may look cute peacefully grazing beneath the elm trees, they have their uses to the college--notably serving as the main course at the dinner table.

Ummmmmm...now where''s my knife and fork?

Radcliffe Square is the sumptuous baroque heart of Oxford. Its architectural set pieces are nothing less then breathtaking--comparable to Venice and Florence.

For in a few hundred cobbled yards of each other there are the spires of All Souls, the rotunda of the Radcliffe Camera, the Jacobean tracery of the Bodleian Library, and the Bridge of Sighs of New College. Dons rush around in flowing robes, tourists gawk, students cycle, and bells toll across this ancient square, which has seen the architectural hands of Wren and Hawksmoor. Take a deep breath, load your camera up, and enjoy the splendor around you.

Of course it is a mishmash of architectural styles and the coloring seems to be different from the rest of Oxford. All Souls is built in oolite honey stone--bright apricot and deep orange seem to be the coloring for many ancient buildings. On a hot summer day or a sharp winter one, this really contrasts with the bright blue sky. And of course there are the gargoyles which seem to stare down at you from every angle. Not all these are as antique as they look--if you peer closely, you can spot a rugby player over the grate of Brasenose or a bespectacled librarian in the Old School Quadrangle. Gargoyles and their fiendish sneering friends seem to follow you everywhere you move.

Radcliffe Square is best approached from the north on Broad Street (across from Blackwells bookshop). On Broad Street are 13 outsized "Emperor's heads" perched on railings at the entrance to Radcliffe Square. These weathered golden stone busts follow the curve of the Sheldonian theater and were put there in 1669. Time and weather have reduced their countenances, and there are several schools of thought on what they represent--one funny one is that they represent the history of beards down the ages.

As you enter from the north, you will pass onto an orange flagstoned area between the Old Clarendon building and the Divinity School. The Old Clarendon building is very striking and is as baroque as they come. Nicholas Hawksmoor was the architect--he who studied under Sir Christopher Wren--and its orange sandstone is very overpowering. Next door is the Sheldonian theater--one of Wren's first architectural projects (before he moved onto the big stuff like St. Paul's). The building houses the big university ceremonials, particularly the Encaenia, where the dean of the university hands out degrees. Robed scholars mutter into their sleeves while graduates look boredly at their shoes and wish they were somewhere else.

Most tourists cross the square to the giant Bodleian Library and Divinity School. If there is a heart of Oxford, then this is it, and the library dates from 1420. A small passageway takes you into the Old School's Quadrangle and the start of the library. The quadrangle is supremely beautiful, with scarlet sandstone and Jacobean ribbed tracing lacing its walls. Gold Latin inscriptions adorn the entranceways to the library, and a statue of the Earl of Pembroke stands in its center. There is still a sense of antiquity here, and the librarians moving fitfully from room to room enhances this.

What you have to remember is that Theology and Divinity were the principal subjects at Oxford until the 19th century; all other subjects were merely a preparation. Beyond the entrance is a small vestibule and then the magnificent Divinity School proper, where that archaic subject was taught. Completed in 1488, one can imagine earnest medieval students scratching away under the firm gaze of tutors below the ribbed fanned ceiling.

The Bodleian Library is off-limits to non-academics and very hard to get a book out of. The new library was completed in 1612 and no book was allowed from its precincts. Strange bedfellows--Oliver Cromwell and King Charles I were both refused.

Back south under a passageway, you enter Radcliffe Square. The smack-in-the-mouth sight here is the rotund Radcliffe Camera (chamber). This is the most memorable sight in Oxford, and its rounded, ribbed domed form (see photo) is stunning when seen from up close or in the context of the harmonious square. On the western side of the square is the ancient Brasenose College, on the southern side is St. Mary the Virgin church, and on the east is the medieval fantasy of All Souls College.

Wherever you turn, there will be Gothic flutes, perpendicular windows, climbing ivy, and the low murmur of busy students. The Camera is not open to visitors and is only of use to students; you will have a fit of pique as you watch them cross the lawn and enter the building. The interior is meant to be as beautiful as the exterior. And then there is All Souls College, which has to be the most spectacular, after Christchurch, in the city. This college is almost smothered in statues, gargoyles, and towers, and the lawns and quadrangles are some of the most beautiful in the city.

One last sight: On the eastern side of the square on New Lane is a bridge. Arcing between the two buildings of Hartford is a complete replica of the "Bridge of Sighs" in Venice. The original arcs over a canal and is smothered in tourists from the nearby cruise ships. This one is bereft of crowds, allowing you a very close look at its fine carving. If you follow New College Lane east, it becomes Queens Lane and looks truly ancient. It is like a country lane, as it twists and turns with high walls and towering gateways. You can have a secret peek into the collegiate world from here, and it's bountifully festooned by gargoyles.

You may be heartily sick of gargoyles by now and begin pulling faces back at them. I did--the wind changed--and I stayed like that . . .

This honey-colored sprawl is a world to itself -a world of towers, cloisters, morning choirs, and stained-glassed windows. It is the biggest, richest, and most pretentious college and has been producing scholars, clergymen, and prime ministers for hundreds of years as well as the hiding place for a king in its magnificent cathedral -which doubles as the city's cathedral.

It also has to be the biggest college and needs at least an hour to do it justice. Situated south of the 'High,' it occupies the ground above, where the two rivers--Cherwell and Isis (the Isis comes from the Latin name for the Thames, Tamesis)--meet, and so is laid out in beautiful watermeadows, making it one of the most idyllic and rural-looking of the colleges.

It's hard to mention which is the better approach to Christchurch. If you can manage it, then come from the south across the playing fields and watermeadows along Broad Walk, which will bring you directly to the entrance at Meadow buildings. Most people, however, come from the north, from 'the High.' Here any alley will bring you into the oldest part of Oxford and the area containing its most prestigious colleges, i.e., Christchurch, Oriel, and Merton.

The alleys themselves are very pretty and used as racetracks by the city's student population; each leads to Blue Boar Street (named after a long-gone pub) and Merton Street, both of which head to Christchurch College. If it is open, then poke your head into Merton College. This one claims to be the oldest--founded in 1264 by Walter de Merton with statues of him and King Henry III glaring at you from the gate tower.

The quad is particularly impressive here, and the Gothic chapel is one of the landmarks of the south skyline of Oxford. Although I have not seen it, the east window in particular is meant to be one of the best in Europe. Merton enjoys the best of academic reputations with T. S. Eliot, Robert Morley, and Kris Kristofferson (eh?) among its past graduates.

Although there are entrances to Tom Tower on St. Aldates and Peckwater Quad on Merton Street, you will probably be directed to the main entrance to the south on the Board Walk. Bowler-hatted porters are in charge of all entrances to the college and are part of college life. The colleges used to have curfews in days gone by, and these beadles would man the gates embarrassing any drunken student who rolled in after hours. Now they just help tourists and keep an eye on the students - they are part of some of the few Oxford traditions that remain.

The advantage of the entrance via the Meadow buildings is that you get a chance to have a look at the green expanses that roll down to the river. On a sunny day, these are covered with students, and there used to be dairy cows penned up at the far end in sight of students scribbling away at late essays.

Entrance is £3 and gives you admittance to the cathedral and dining room. At any time, these might be closed, and especially so in June/July (examination time). You'll be given a small pamphlet that explains the history of the college.

And what a history it has been! It was built on the site of the tomb of Oxford's patron saint, Frideswilde. Who? Yes, she who lived in 680 A.D. and was perceived to have miraculous powers. Something for the feminists--she cured scrofula and defects in babies, but when when her husband pursued her to Oxford, he was suddenly struck blind by a word from God.

A monastery was constructed around her tomb. Lady Montacute, in 1488, left the surrounding farmland to the college and chapel and so saved the watermeadows we see around us today. There was relative peace until Henry VIII performed the dissolution of the monasteries and kicked all the monks out. His sidekick, the powerful Cardinal Wolsely, took an active interest in the college, which he named Cardinal after himself. After his fall from grace, it was called Christchurch College, but both cathedral and college were separated and the diocese of Oxford created.

In the civil war, Oxford threw in with the royalists, and the current dean's buildings were the royal quarters for the awful Charles I and his Catholic queen, Henrietta Maria. Oxford eventually fell to the Parliamentarians and the king fled northwards. In revenge for supporting the royalists, Cromwell kicked out the dean and replaced him with his own man. Interestingly enough, during the civil war the colleges supported the king, but the ordinary people supported the Parliamentarians--a division that still persists today.

As you enter through the Meadow building, you are directed left into the great hall. Here a sandstone grand staircase leads up to the college dining rooms. The 500 students who live here also dine here amongst the wood beam roof and stuffy portraits. The staircase leading up to it - according to a notice at the entrance - has been featured as Hogwarts in the last three Harry Potter films.

As you leave, you open into the great set piece of Christchurch - the Tom Quad. This expanse is colossal, about the size of a football pitch, and covered in rolling green lawn. A fountain and statue of Mercury stand in the middle. Its name, Tom Quad, is due to the enormous bell in the looming Tom Tower, designed by Sir Christopher Wren. More important for the students is that it also signals lunch and dinner. A small doorway on the southern side leads to the magnificent Christchurch Cathedral.

It's difficult to describe how spectacular this is. The first time I saw it in 1989 was also the year I first visited Paris, and looking at the ceiling of Notre Dame, I thought France's national cathedral had a ceiling far inferior to Christchurch.

You need at least half an hour to do this church justice, and as you slowly walk around its edges, more and more becomes apparent. The original church has been expanded and is now built in the shape of a cross. The vast nave is mainly compiled of choir stalls, while seating for Oxford residents is around the side. Beside the entrance is a stained-glass window of Jonah with the city of Ninevah depicted as a sort of Old Testament timeshare community. The church has four areas for praying; one of these is for St. Frideswilde, whose adventures are depicted in bright stained glass in the Latin chapel.

The Bell altar stands nearby and was created to commemorate the memory of Bishop Bell, who was against the bombing of German cities in WWII. The main altar is rather golden and Catholic. But it is here that you look up at the ceiling, laced by remarkable vaulted chancel made up of hundreds of intricate star-shaped patterns to create the image of heaven. The vault stretches all the way along the nave and is enhanced by 60 beautiful stone pendants hanging gracefully over the congregation.

The Catherine window is worth a look, as the woman depicted was Edith Liddell--the sister of Alice Liddell, who was Lewis Carroll's inspiration for Alice in Wonderland. Outside in the quad, there's a over-long video showing the history of the college, but most people head along to Peckwater Quad and the Portrait Gallery.

This costs a further £2 and contains a number of Italian masters along with Holbein's famous portrait of King Henry VIII. There is plenty of space for Christchurch's own famous alumni--Sir Robert Peel, John Wesley, W. H. Auden, Auberon Waugh, and two prime ministers (Anthony Eden and Gladstone). Christchurch is probably the most conservative and "establishment" of the colleges and can be a little intimidating.

But just remember as you are ambling along -those potential MPs and bishops all around you are off to boring lectures, whilst you, dear tourist, are probably off to the pub. Ain't that a crying shame . . .