Visiting Richo in Oxford

June 14-17, 2007

The time finally arrived after almost a year for Davo to visit his ex-house mate, ex-college room mate, Richo, who has been studying in Oxford for the last two years. Since it was end of exam time at Oxford, it was always going to be an eventful weekend...

Oxford has a unique vibe. It's a university town which doesn't seem to have some of the elements of normal society. First of all, everyone who is studying in Oxford is there for a certain period of time then they leave. Most of these people are very special, because of their academic talents, but also because of their quirky personality traits. There are all sorts! The second majority group in Oxford are the tourists, who come in waves and frequent the obvious parts of town. Obviously there are people who make a living in Oxford as well and have families there, but they seem to be a small minority.

It was a great time to visit. There is a long standing tradition (there are a lot of these in Oxford) after finishing final exams, where your mates and family will shower you with stuff as you walk out of the exam hall for the final time. The students wear compulsory attire, so they are easy to spot and thankfully very difficult to confuse with an innocent friend of a student (that would be me). The 'stuff' usually includes champagne, confetti, flour, eggs, beans, seafood, etc. There are police baracades and all. Richo and his mate Monte (whose floor I gratefully accepted as my home for the weekend), live smack in the middle of the centre of celebrations. So at 12.30 and 5.30, every day they cop the action!

On the topic of traditions, they are endless in a place like Oxford. I learnt a lot from the discussions with Richo's mates. Magdalen College, one of the 39 in Oxford, has a deer park. When a fellow of the college dies they kill one of the deer and serve it up for dinner. Myth has it that they hire a sniper to assassinate the deer so the rest don't get frightened of humans. So what happens to the fellows when a deer dies of natural causes?

New College has a mound in it's grounds, which is also next to the old city wall. You are prohibited to climb the the mound. At least you can walk on their grass though, unlike the rest of the grass in Oxford for which you will be told off for even resting a toe on a single blade of grass. The myth behind the mound is that during the plague, the townies made a catapult and slung their dead into the university's grounds, hence creating a mound. Interesting...

We drank in the pub where Bob Hawke downed the yard glass in 13 seconds and where Bill Clinton 'didn't' smoke that joint. These blokes are both fellows and ex-students of Richo's college, Univ (I'm with the lingo!) short for University College. I was lucky enough to dine at a formal dinner as a guest which was very exciting. Unfortunately the quality of some of the food at the college was not directly proportional to the quality of the company. Bob is present at every meal with his portrait perched in prime position. It's a common topic of conversation between members of colleges ... 'so how many prime minister's are fellows of your college?'

I easily had the best tour guide in town. Richo gave me a uni sports team jumper and we walked around, in and out of places where the rest of the general public were not allowed. This included the Christ Church dining hall or should I say, the Hogwarts dining hall (very exciting!); the uni running track where Roger Bannister broke the 4 minute mile in 1954 (might I remind you that this record was smashed by Aussie legend Peter Landy 6 weeks later back in Australia); and other amazing colleges, churches, libraries and pubs. Brilliant.

Richo was busy one day being used as a guinea pig in a physiology experiment, so I used the time to visit Woodstock, a small town nearby. I'd read that it was the birthplace of Sir Winston Churchill and had an amazing palace called Blenheim Palace that was a must see. It was too bad that it had been hired out for the day by the English Football captain, John Terry, so he could get married.

Instead I went into the tourist office and asked if there was anything else to do. I asked if there were any interesting sites related to the Woodstock Festival back in the 70's where the Beatles played. I learnt that this actually took place in Woodstock, New York! Showing my age, what can I say.

So instead of seeing the great English Prime Minister's birthplace, I visited his resting place. It was in the grounds of a nice church in the neighbouring town, Bladon. His grave was modest and humble. It was a bit strange looking at the church and seeing John Terry fly over in his chopper at the same time.

Great weekend!