Oxford in the heatwave

Hiya everyone,
B and I are safely back from a mammoth trip to Oxford for a Gaudy – a kind of reunion for cohorts of old students in turn. In my head, it used to be free, one of the antique customs of an Oxford college, liking feeding and wining its Fellows, but in these hard days, it comes up every ten years or so, and costs.
We stopped with Becca and the boys on the way down and back, which was lovely, and then stayed with Christopher Graham in Oxford, who looked after B. while I went to the dinner. Becca fed us on her first harvest of potatoes, and Christopher on his newly ripe raspberries.
B. came with me to tea at the Rector’s lodgings, which was a lovely party in the garden, and then stayed with Chris while I went off in my kilt to the dinner. There were 171 people there, all starting their student life in 1960 or earlier – the oldest started in 1935, so must be over 90. I knew about 40 from my era, and it was
surprising how pleasant and amiable and chatty they all were.
It was a delicious meal, including a second course of Black Olive Sorbet soup, followed by braised sea-trout, and then yummy frozen berries of various kinds.
The sound system didn’t work properly, so I missed Stanley Johnson’s speech, which was promised to be short and funny, but was long and egotistical. He is the Dad of the London Mayor, Boris. I was sorry not to hear what our Rector, Frances Cairncross said. I don’t know if she mentioned our college’s new statue, on the corner of the Turl and Broad by the artist who did the Angel of the North. He’s discretely naked, though my photo doesn’t show this. I managed to get a bus home to Chris’s.



On Sunday morning, Norbert and Rosemary Kunisch came round for coffee, and they both looked extremely well (pic of Rosemary and B. at the top). If my memory is right, both the Kunisches and Grahams plan to be up at Nethybridge in September.

It always seems to me to be a miracle that we get safely home, with so many idiots racing above the speed limit on the motorways. One day, the government will see the sense of my brilliant solution to the country’s economic difficulties: fine everyone who goes above the speed limit and is caught on camera, every time they are on camera, ten pounds for every mile over the limit: it would be a voluntary tax, would raise millions from those who can best afford to pay, and might even improve road safety. And we were home in time to see Andy Murray’s latest epic tennis victory – I don’t care if he wins, he has given us fantastic entertainment.
Lots of love to you all,
Zander and B.