Oxford - spend and be damned!

It may not be in the true spirit of Rough Guides but this trip was mainly about spending too much and not caring. I didn’t want to start our marriage off with a miserly reputation now did I? The Crazy Bear Hotel in Stadhampton (about eight miles outside Oxford) is gaining something of a national reputation for its food and accommodation and deservedly so.
Oxford is a city high on the agenda of foreign visitors and does possess a magnetism that even a reluctant cynic like myself can’t resist. The University dominates the town and, love it or loathe it, this much history deserves your attention. There are several places around the centre where you can view the rooftops and peer down on the quads. The Carfax Tower and the Sheldonian are worth the climb.
Pick up a pub guide for the centre of Oxford. It is the quintessential English experience but it can go terribly wrong if you choose badly. The Bear is a treat and the Eagle and Child draws literary fans.

Quick Tips:

There aren’t many bargains to be had in terms of eating or accommodation – the city is pretty well geared up for tourists. You might find the odd café geared towards a poverty-stricken student crowd but not many (Oxford students, in the main, are a relatively well off bunch). Pizza Hut and the burger chains also loom large in the heart of the shopping district if you get desperate.
Wander the streets - don't walk in to the first place you see. Get yourself a good pub lunch and venture further afield in the evening.
As for activities…a relaxing punt on the Thames? Many a first timer has ended up in the river (it's harder than it looks!) so it may be better to hire the ‘punter’ too.

Best Way To Get Around:

The centre of Oxford is very definitely not for driving in – the road system does its stubborn best to push you outwards. The popular image of students and lecturers cycling en masse is a correct one, in term-time at least, and parking is fairly restricted. Leave the car in one of the long stay car parks on the inner ring-road or, better still, come by train (well under an hour from London as long as the trains are behaving themselves).
Oxford is pretty compact and so walking round is very easy. A ticket on the Open top bus tour affords you a better view and combines a short journey with some well described pointers about Oxford’s past.

Before I write this I shall gather my thoughts and remind myself to be objective. This was the venue for my honeymoon and yet I must strive to offer you a balanced view. A tricky job because this place is just too cool. Situated in Stadhampton, 8 miles from Oxford, the Crazy Bear used to be ‘the Bear and Flagstaff’, an average village pub. Then someone with an imagination too large to hold in his head took it and transformed it into the unique experience it is today. The fifteenth century building, outhouses and gardens have evolved into a small, comfortable bar, two restaurants, five ‘standard’ rooms, four suites and two cottages. We had booked into one of the larger standard rooms, situated in the eaves above the bar. Our bags were picked up at reception and we were led up a flight of stairs to a series of brass plated doors, each with a cigar advertisement that provided the room’s name (the pub’s range of cigars suggests they are trying to keep Cuba’s export revenue up single handed). Behind the Montecristo door lay another steep staircase and there was our room – zebra print carpets, red walls and a feast of art deco influenced detail from the lamps to the balustrades, chaise lounge and wardrobe door. Our large en-suite bathroom was stylishly equipped with a blue glass sink and bath built for two. But they hadn’t neglected our modern needs: you are handed your room remote control at reception – it handles the stereo TV, radio, DVD, lights and so on. We managed to poke our noses round most of the other rooms during our stay and each was uniquely decorated and adorned with individual touches. And then we caught a look at the suites. ‘Decadent’ just doesn’t describe these rooms – I’d never thought about it before but I NEED a marble surround two-seater bath at the end of my bed. I just do. We had managed to pick the hottest few days England has ever had for our stay and so breakfast was served in the garden (more of which you can read in the restaurant reviews). A continental breakfast is included in the room price but you can order pretty much what you like and they’ll rustle it up for you. The service is largely impeccable – most of the staff appears to be Antipodean backpackers on their walkabout – unobtrusive and seemingly intent on making sure you enjoy your stay. We did notice that they seemed pretty terrified of the management…the price of quality service in the UK? – but I’m splitting hairs. The Blonde and I fell in love with this place (we also fell asleep in a cold bath but that’s another story). I did not begrudge paying for this unique experience. Take a look at The Crazy Bear Hotel and make an excuse to go. Because you’re worth it.

The Crazy Bear is blessed with two restaurants, Thai and English, both of which are making something of an impression in England’s broadsheet newspaper’s restaurant reviews. The Crazy Bear also has quite an extensive bar menu – a bowl of Oysters sits on the bar waiting to be snapped up. The Thai restaurant is usually found downstairs from the bar. Fortunately we didn’t get to see it – England was experiencing its hottest weekend ever and all dining was al fresco in the Crazy Bear’s crazy garden. A rather startling statue of Pan pokes out from amongst the Palm trees and we also spotted a computer monitor tucked away in the branches. The menu is extensive – a wide range of fish and seafood including sea bream, sea bass, prawns and mussels competed with duck, chicken and Aberdeen Angus Beef done every which way. The agony of choice was taken away by opting for a well constructed set menu – well constructed in that it had the Blonde’s favourites on it at any rate. I was a little apprehensive about the mixed starter; sesame toast, spring rolls, prawn dumplings and satay can be found on the menu in most Chinese restaurants and in the freezer compartment in the local restaurant. The Crazy Bear has now ensured that I will judge such offerings much more harshly. The marinated chicken satay on was plump, succulent and melted off the skewer. The sesame toast was laden with seeds and delicately crunchy – no soggy, over-fried bread here. The three dipping sauces that accompanied the starter enhanced the dish even further. The main course consisted of a Roast Duckling curry, Mussel, Prawn, Scallop and Squid cooked in chilli oil and Thai spices and stir-fried vegetables all accompanied by perfectly cooked fragrant rice. The Blonde is a complete filter feeder obsessive and pronounced the shellfish ‘unbeatable’ – I managed to pinch the odd one and had to agree. All high quality ingredients and cooked to perfection. £20 a head before adding in the cost of the wine (there’s a few good bottles around £15 and under) is a pretty hefty investment for a meal but the Crazy Bear delivers in spades – not only food but discrete, efficient service and surroundings that make the experience unique. If you are looking to spoil someone, and the Blonde so deserves spoiling, then this is the spot to do it…or come and work here if you’re travelling!!

The English restaurant at the Bear is up a short staircase from the bar but they also use the outside area when weather permits, and it did when we dined there. While the Thai restaurant uses heavy log tables and benches (conjure up a vision of a Flintstones picnic table and you won’t be far wrong) the English has more refined wrought iron tables set on the lawn. The menu is very extensive and imaginatively put together. It includes locally reared Lamb, Pigs trotters (!?) and a range of seafood that had the Blonde’s mouth watering (my wife is something of a Crustacean obsessive) including a lobster and prawn risotto and ‘hand dived’ scallops. The entrees start at £16.50 and, with the starters coming in at £6.50; this is not a cheap night out. There is, however, a three course set menu for £15 and we opted for that, the thinking being that this would leave more in the pocket for brandy later. The set menu actually provides a choice of three starters and main courses anyway so this was no great hardship!! The Blonde and I both started with liver and black pudding crostini. There’s a time and a place for offal and this certainly was it. This delicious dish safely buried memories of rubbery overcooked liver from school days and greasy, student-caff black pudding. I could live on this stuff and my only complaint would have to be about quantity. After the beautiful starter our expectations were high, a little too high for the steak strips in pepper sauce. The dish was good, the steak was of fabulous quality (as you’d expect for a restaurant pitching towards the top end of the market) but there was the nagging suspicion that we could have had a good stab at producing it at home. We washed it all down with a crisp Australian Semillon Chardonnay. The Blonde and I are normally red wine people and the meal would probably have been better accompanied with red but it was so hot in England that week that we couldn’t see past the word ‘chilled’ - apologies to connoisseurs everywhere. Our fears for the staff of the Crazy Bear grew considerably during this meal. We’d already seen a chirpy barman get something of a tongue-lashing for failing to follow some obscure wine etiquette and then our German waitress dropped a piece of cutlery in the Blonde’s wine, knocking it all over the table. Her scared face and desperate plea of "Please don’t tell them it was me!" reminded the Blonde of her own waitressing days and solidarity with the fellow oppressed won the day. We very nearly broke though when we got a very sharp scowl from the maitre d’ and the sharp side of her tongue. Both the Crazy Bear’s restaurants are fabulous but, if you were faced with the choice, I’d suggest opting for the Thai.

You can’t walk far these days in an English town or city before stumbling across a coffee shop. The major chains of Costa, Starbucks and co. crowd for your attention, offering a smart lifestyle choice. I blame Friends completely. But you can’t get away from the fact that coffee is great – great when you’re at work with it’s in built excuse for a break and even better when you are on vacation. Sit on the pavement and pretend you’re in Rome living the Dolce Vita, or perhaps in a Parisian café, watching the girls go by to the sound easy listening crooners. One of the smaller groups chasing this market in the UK at the moment is Café Puccinos. I say it’s a group because I’m sure that I’ve seen them elsewhere but the place in Oxford expresses its individuality. Situated in a small yard off the main pedestrianised shopping street that is the Cornmarket, Puccinos is a café with a perky, cheeky attitude that draws you in. It is spread over two floors with a cluster of tables out front in the shade of the yard. The menu is reasonably broad for a café, taking it away from the ‘standard’ coffee-houses, but not too far. Paninis, baguettes and cheeky tapas-type offerings are the order of the day with a full coffee list scrawled across the wall inside. Scrawling on the wall is something of an obsession with this place – all the notices and menus are written across the wall in black marker – tongue-in-cheek and sardonic in the main. Half the fun of this place is happening across little messages tucked away under window ledges and around corners – look out for the ‘secret Nescafe Pipe’ (a personal favourite). Honeymooning as we were, the Blonde and I had been celebrating and so were in need of a caffeine and fluid fix. The espresso did what any self-respecting espresso should and gave me the coffee equivalent of a good hard slap in the face. The Blonde opted for Fentimans ‘Curiosity Cola’ – a brand we had not come across before but shall seek out in future. Fentimans produced a range of fermented mineral drinks (alcohol was a part of the Blondes cure, somewhat to her surprise…hair of the dog and all that) spiced up with gingerroot and other herbal extracts. Great stuff. We also sampled Puccinos smoothies. They were tall, cold and thick although it was a little difficult to taste the difference between the flavours – we had to rely on colour for that. It’s just a little café, not trying to be anything else, but Café Puccinos is situated just off the bust thoroughfares and I found it to be a great break from the crowds. A light lunch and a drink won’t cost over £10 (it is licensed) and the service is prompt and friendly so give it a shot.

There are a couple of companies running open-top bus tours around Oxford. We opted for ‘City Sightseeing’ basically because it came to a halt in front of us as we were deciding what to do. The buses run every 10 or 15 minutes and just keep on doing their hour-long loop until 6 o’clock in summer and 5 o’clock in winter. The bus tour costs £9 for adults, £7 for OAPs and students and £3 for children under 16 with children under 5 travelling free (and being very bored in the process one suspects). The ticket lasts all day so you can hop on and off as frequently as you like – very handy for nipping in to see the bits you want to see. Obviously, you can also start from wherever you like too – tickets are bought directly from the driver. I’ve always had something of a block about being a tourist in my own country. I feel like I should be doing something productive, on my way to work, watching football or something. And I painfully recall how fed up with tourists I used to get when living in heavily visited places like Canterbury or Brighton – only fellow Brits though (we’re not a pleasant bunch when on holiday, on the whole). You can’t just nip to the shops without having to fight your way through the hordes crying, "I want my town back!" Friendly, welcoming sort of guy aren’t I? But I’ve decided open top bus tours are a good thing. For one, they successfully contain the tourists in one place, and they also do a great job of getting you orientated. Many of the bus tours have a live guide describing the various sites en route and the guides we experienced did a marvellous job of bringing the University town to life. In addition to the descriptions of the various colleges’ history, our guide spiced up the story with tales of student antics, pointed out the street where Bill Clinton ‘didn’t inhale’ and identified the many film locations dotted around. This ‘colour’ brings the austere and forbidding college buildings to life. Of course, what you don’t see are the marvellous quads and interiors of the colleges. You can gain admission to many of the colleges after paying a small fee (not around exam time though) and walking tours of the town can also be endured, sorry enjoyed, throughout the summer. A walking tour struck us as an excursion too far, particularly in the August heat, but you can get concessions if you have also purchased a bus tour ticket. The highlights of the tour for me were Magdelen (pronounced maudlin) College and bridge and the Sheldonian theatre with the Venetian-influenced Bridge of Sighs nearby (Hertford College). It’s a great way to enjoy the city but do wait for a bus where you can fit on the top deck – there is no point in riding downstairs.

The Sheldonian is located on the corner of Broad Street and Catte Street and is in close proximity to the Radcliffe Camera, the Bodlean library and Trinity College gates. Broad Street is actually a broad street and it’s where many of the Oxford University-oriented souvenir shops are located. Get your sweatshirt and baseball cap here. The Sheldonian is the University’s ceremonial hall and is where the matriculation and graduation ceremonies are held along with other formal events. The theatre is behind a high set of railings, the pillars of which are adorned with enormous stone heads. The Greco-Roman faces are massive and they all look faintly astonished, with gaping mouths and wild eyes – not your average classical statue. My thought was that they were philosophers caught at the exact moment of realisation, or perhaps stunned by the ignorance of the students passing by. The building itself is marvellous. Built between 1664-9, it was the first major design of Sir Christopher Wren (the man behind St. Pauls). It is round in shape and designed to conjure up thoughts of Roman amphitheatres. It costs £1.50 to get in and a little extra for an A4 guide booklet (well worth getting). After paying you pass through a set of doors straight into the auditorium. Steep banks of seats almost completely surround the open centre. I must admit to a slight feeling of disappointment on entering – it has a very self-important feel to it. Thinking about it now, I think I can trace that back to the supercilious and sneering attendant who took our money. It is that attitude that gives the English their often-deserved reputation for snobbishness…I better stop there before a full rant begins. The highlight of the auditorium is directly above you – a ceiling painted by Robert Streater when the building was new, designed to give the impression of looking directly up to the heavens. The theme of the painting is Truth ganging up with the Arts and Sciences to kick Ignorance out of the University. The guide contains a 300-year-old description of the ceiling, panel-by-panel. In summary, Ignorance appears to be scoffing at all these smart gods and goddesses who are representing such disciplines as Botany and ‘Arithmetick’ while they plot his ejection from this esteemed seat of learning. Nice if you like that sort of thing. A bit too fussy for my sitting room at home. The high point for us, however, was the Cupola. You can climb to the roof of the Sheldonian and peer out across the rooftops of Oxford toward all points of the compass. The guide provides a handy panorama of what you can see. Fascinating architectural detail can be spied although you can’t really see into any quads or colleges beyond Trinity. The climb is gentle and the reward huge.

There seems to be something of an obsession with Bears around these parts. Crazy Bears, straight bears, Bear Lanes – all the towns and villages around these parts seem to have a reference somewhere. Oh, and sheep too. The Bear (on the corner of Bear Lane and Alfred Street) lays claim to be one of the oldest pubs in Oxford, being first on this site in the 13th century. It isn’t quite as well known as the Eagle and Child (regular watering hole of CS Lewis, Tolkien et al.) but is equally deserving of your attention. The inside is a pleasing jumble of small rooms, low beams and narrow doorways – it only takes a few people to make the place seem crowded. Adorning the walls and ceilings throughout the bar are thousands of ties; old school ties, society ties, regimental ties – they’re all represented. The story goes that you used to be able to exchange your tie for a pint if they didn’t already have it…or the more rambunctious version has the bar staff cutting ties off the clientele. Choose whichever version you prefer. The pub has a good range of cask ales – Bass and Batemans being personal favourites that I noticed. The Blonde, in a permanent haze of post-marital excitement, ordered a Bloody Mary. The spicy concoction was duly crafted and she declared it ‘perfection’. A few tables can be found outside the pub in an adjoining yard and food is served in the middle of the day (we lunched about three). I tucked into slightly overcooked Cajun Chicken and chips (having ordered a Cajun Chicken sandwich) – the house chips were good at any rate, hefty wedges of potato that made up for the disappointing chicken. The Blonde had a salad, not wanting to neutralise the impact of the Bloody Mary, and was pleasantly surprised by its quality – no limp lettuce and tasteless tomatoes at The Bear. Located as it is just off the main thoroughfares, the Bear was not overcrowded when we stopped by for a late lunch. Considering the crowds elsewhere, this seemed a considerable bonus for somewhere that’s so pleasant. It is tiny and apparently it gets pretty packed at night but it’s popular with locals and that’s a fair measure in my book.