Oxford Parkruns - By Kit Villiers

As I live close to Cutteslowe Park, one of two Parkrun venues in Oxford, I always leave it to the last minute before dashing over to the start line; in fact by last Saturday I'd done this last minute rush 99 times, and the organisers asked me if I was going to show up next week for my 100th run, to which I, rather wittily I thought, responded that I'd be too shy to have to step out in front of 200 or so other runners to get my fancy new 100th run t-shirt, and would come again on my 101st.

Anyway what I wanted to say is that on this particular Saturday  - and it has taken me the 3 years since Oxford Parkrun began to reach the dizzy heights of being almost a centenarian - while I was chatting to a couple of cronies just before the start, I suddenly caught sight of a familiar face. And yes, you've guessed it - it was Sam, late of OISE Oxford office fame, and who I think were her two flatmates. All had chosen this chilly November day to make their Parkrun debuts. I had been joking with Sam for ages (i.e. virtually the whole of the 3 years) about running Parkrun - after all she lives even nearer than I do - but 9am has to date proved a little too early for her and her household. It transpired though that this time an alarm had been set and the three athletes from Jackson Road were - at last-  assembled on the start line, ready for the 'off'.

For people who don't know, Parkrun is a relatively recent phenomenon. It began in a London Park a few years ago, and the format is so simple. Runs are always in a park, they're always 5k in length and always start at 9am. I believe this means local time, so runners in Melbourne will have long finished before we even think about starting in the old country. The other feature is that it's free: you just get a bar-code which gets clicked as you finish and so there's no nonsense about wearing numbers either. And it's very welcoming. We always give new runners a welcoming clap, and of course this time this included Sam and co., together with quite a few others. After the run Cutteslowe Park's kiosk is now open for a coffee (this is quite a new feature as the number of participants has gradually built up - I suppose 200 runners means quite a bit of potential business).

Although a few fast people show up, a really nice aspect is that nobody can be too slow for Parkrun. We have a lady who simply walks all the way, and we all give her a clap when she finishes. There is a tail-runner who always brings up the rear, and makes sure nobody gets lost.

Parkrun is apparently the 'in' thing at the moment - everybody is doing it. A second venue opened up in Oxford, at Harcourt Hill, only a few weeks ago, and there are runs at Abingdon-on-Thames and other nearby towns too. Each Parkrun depends on volunteers. These include timekeepers and marshals, as well as the tail-runner.

And how did Sam and co get on? I think the 3 of them were all safely back home in Jackson Road before I crossed the finish line.....

The 4.50 from Paddington - by Kit Villiers

As I'm sure you all know, this is the title of one of Agatha Christie's murder mysteries. Miss Marple's friend catches the 4.50pm train from Paddington Station to some fictional place in the country. It's winter and it's dark outside. The friend, an old lady like Miss Marple, is travelling alone.  She's quietly reading. Gradually she becomes aware that the 4.50 is slowly overtaking another passenger train. She can see the passengers eating, chatting or snoozing as she passes each compartment of the other train. In those days you had first class compartments with six seats (3 opposite 3) and third class with eight (4 opposite 4). None of these open plan coaches you get nowadays. So if you were lucky and the train wasn't crowded you could get a whole compartment to yourself, as had the friend.

After a little while the old lady gets a bit bored of eavesdropping on the humdrum lives of her fellow travellers opposite, and goes back to her 'Woman's Own'. But then the two trains start to run at the same speed. Something makes her look up. In the compartment exactly opposite her something not at all humdrum is taking place. There are two people there, and there seems to be a struggle going on. A very violent struggle. The old lady slowly realises that what she is witnessing is a man strangling a woman. Just as the woman slumps down obviously dead the other train starts to slow and the old lady sees no more.

After witnessing this terrible real-life melodrama, the old lady is then faced with the problem of what to do about it. I don't recall if she considers pulling the alarm cord: anyway she certainly tells the guard. Naturally he doesn't believe her. And when she gets to the fictional town where she is to stay with Miss Marple, neither she nor Miss Marple can persuade the local police to take it seriously either.

To cut a long story short, Miss Marple with the help of the railway timetable first works out where the body was thrown out of the train, and of course later she discovers who the victim was and who bumped her off.

What interested me was that my father and I several times had a similar experience to Miss Marple's friend. Well, to be honest witnessing a murder we didn't, but everything else seemed to fit. My father often spent the day in London. In those steam-train days we lived in a village called Leafield, near Witney, and our nearest station was Finstock, or Finstock Halt as it was called then. Occasionally I was taken to London as a treat. We always caught the 4.40 back as this went on past Oxford, stopping at Finstock Halt. There was another train though, the 4.45, also for Oxford. Although this was an express train, it was no good for us as we would have to change somewhere to get home. Every time we took this journey the two trains somewhere around Reading would run along together. I remember my father telling me it was because the two drivers wanted to have a chat. When the trains were going exactly the same speed you had the illusion that they'd both stopped. This was always a big thrill for a small child - the highlight of what otherwise seemed an interminable journey.

I'm sure Agatha Christie must have made the same journey, and what would be more natural on a dark night for somebody with her imagination to build one of her murder mysteries around it.

OK, I know there's a 5 or 10 minute difference, but I'm not going to let that spoil a good yarn....

The Pubs of Oxford

As the prospect of a sunny weekend in June looms over Oxford city, many students, residents and visitors alike will be turning their thoughts to the Great British institution that is the pub.
Oxford is of course, a city synonymous with academics and academics are of course synonymous with drinking, so much so that Cambridge professor of history Gillian Evans terms drinking as 'the civilized accompaniment to the business of academia'.
Indeed prompted by the presence of the university Oxford has developed a famous pub scene and many of the city's most iconic residents and visitors over the ages have marked the pages of pub lore - The Inklings writers group which boasted J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis amongst it's ranks regularly convened in the Eagle and Child public house and it was in the beer garden of the labyrinthine Turf Tavern that former-U.S. President Bill Clinton infamously 'did not inhale'.

Whether or not one is partial to a pint, no visit to Oxford would be complete without soaking up the atmosphere in one of it's historic ale houses. Each Tuesday our students are offered the opportunity to spend an enjoyable evening on the OISE Oxford pub crawl, and after a day of intensive study, who could possibly begrudge them some mid-week relief?

A novel approach to Christ Church Meadow

Did you know that you can get into Christ Church - well, more specifically into the the Memorial Gardens - without going through that big gate in St Aldate's? At any time of day or night? No? Well, I'll tell you how, or at least I'll tell you how we did it many years ago (i.e. way back in the last century, when I was a student).

Some time in the 1960s my mate Bill, the (self-appointed) captain of the University canoe club and I got hold of 2 kayaks and paddled up stream from Folly Bridge to the rather cunningly concealed entrance to the Trill Mill stream. I'm not quite sure what gave Bill the idea in the first place, or how he even knew such a stream existed. It's possible that he'd heard that T.E. Lawrence (Lawrence of Arabia) had managed the feat about 60 years earlier, when he was an undergraduate at Jesus College.

He (Bill, that is) had done a little research. "It could be a bit narrow and twisty, so we'd better take 2 boats - and we'd better each take at least a couple of torches" he'd said at the planning stage a few days earlier. "I've also no idea how strong the current might be....it could be a bit tricky if we have to go back and we can't turn around." With those encouraging words I almost dropped out, but I suppose the bravado of youth won through, although another somewhat sobering thought did occur to me - what if we got separated? That might have been a tad worrying, at least for a sensitive chap such as myself. After all, it was going to be pitch dark. I refrained from voicing this particular concern to Bill who seemed determined to press ahead come what may.

As I recall it, the entrance was on the right, somewhere near Oxford Castle. I doubt if I could find it today; anyway, according to another friend who went through the tunnel few years after me as a stunt for Radio Oxford, the entrance is now blocked off. We went in, Bill in the lead and me somewhat apprehensively a little astern. At first it wasn't too bad, but it soon got so dark that I could make out Bill's boat only with my torch. Even then I occasionally thought I'd lost him when he negotiated the odd bend. I seemed to be able to touch the roof and the walls pretty easily. This reassured me slightly until another slight concern hit me - what if it gets even narrower and we get wedged in?

We were rather vague as to where exactly we went. We rather hoped we would go under Carfax, although how we would know it if we did, we didn't know. Suddenly there was a dim light overhead: it turned out to be a drain cover, and there were traffic noises. Suddenly somebody walked over the drain. I remember a sense of relief  - we were no longer alone in the world. Well, perhaps it was Carfax, but we found out later it's more likely that we had been crossing under St Aldate's, probably near Alice's shop.

In fact our voyage ended relatively soon after the drain cover incident. A dim light showed ahead: eventually we emerged, blinking in the unaccustomed light, into that little pool that separates the tunnel exit from the bridge in the Memorial Gardens which all the tourists on their way to visit Christ Church now must cross, gawping at the (Harry Potter) hall to their left as they do so.

We had one remaining problem. That little pool has pretty steep sides; even if we could have clambered out, wrecking the flowers as we did so, there was no way that we could have got the canoes out. There was nothing for it but to continue down to the Thames, hoping we weren't accosted by the Dean or someone for trespassing.

One final point of interest. The 'Oxford Mail' carried an article a couple of years ago claiming that Lawrence had discovered an ancient Victorian era punt in the tunnel, complete with 3 dead students, no doubt with boaters and blazers, who'd supposedly got stuck years earlier. This I'm assured can't be true: the stream is far too narrow for a punt. Good story though!

Running in Oxford - Part 3

I've left East Oxford until last. I'm defining E Oxford as anywhere east of Magdalen Bridge; as this is home to some 60% of Oxford's residents, it's last but certainly not least.

Let's start by following the left hand fork at the Plain (just east of the bridge); this winds through St Clement's which at first sight looks unpromising for the would-be jogger, but just as you get to the foot of the hill leading up to Oxford Brookes and Headington a vista of parks opens up before you on both sides of the road: on the left is Headington Hill Park and on the right is South Park. If you want to be under the trees and enjoy a bit of exclusion I'd go for the former; South Park on the other hand is much more open and has splendid views back over the dreaming spires. You also won't be alone there - the university train there in the winter as do Headington Road Runners. Both of these parks are suitable for hill training, if you like that sort of thing.

Neither of the other 2 roads leading off the Plain (Cowley Road and Iffley Road) are quite so alluring for runners, at least not for those who like solitude or green pastures. Florence Park (between the two) is fine once you get there, but you need to go further out to get to perhaps the best running locally. I'm referring to Shotover Country Park; this is reached by following Old Road to the end, at the top of the hill. Old Road was the original road to London. Be warned though - you've got quite a climb to get to into the park at all... no wonder they abandoned this route to the capital in favour of the A40! Anyway, once you've arrived at Shotover the options are plentiful and the running as challenging as you want. There are different coloured trails of varying lengths. In fact I would recommend following one of these as otherwise it's pretty easy to get lost as it's quite a big place. Plenty of blackberries around too - or there will be shortly.

If you're in the Iffley Road there is a nice loop for runners to follow, made famous by the so-called Teddy Hall Relays, the largest mid-week road relay race in the country. It starts at the University athletics track (where Sir Roger Bannister was the first man to run one mile in under 4 minutes) which is just off the Iffley Road. Run south along the Iffley Road, turning down Meadow Lane and then following through the fields to Donnington Bridge; cross the Thames here, and turn right along the tow-path following the river upstream to Folly Bridge (you'll see the 'Head of the River' pub opposite). Run over the bridge and into Christ Church Meadow at the back of the pub. Exit the meadow in Rose Lane, turn right and it's a simple run back to Iffley Road across Magdalen Bridge.

If you are further out along the Iffley Road, in Rose Hill or Iffley Village, then try to make your way to Iffley lock; there's plenty of good running there along the Thames, both up or downstream.

Good luck and stay fit!

Running in Oxford - Part 2

I've been trying to describe where visitors to Oxford (such as our students) might find nice places to run after slaving away on the present continuous all day, and I've already made a few suggestions for people living or staying in North Oxford or the City Centre. By the way we sometimes get a very famous jogger in the City Centre, and that's Bill Clinton who does his jogging (complete with bodyguards) from the Randolph Hotel when he's in town - but I'm sorry I can't tell you exactly where he goes. Perhaps we could discreetly follow him and his entourage next time!

WEST OXFORD

Again I would recommend Port Meadow if you're not too far out of town; just follow the path beside the various Thames bridges to the north of Botley Road and you should get there, or you can go along Binsey Lane, which is also off the Botley Road to the north, not so far from Oxford Station. After the excitement of seeing the OISE head office you can stop off for raspberries at the 'Pick Your Own' at Medley Manor Farm, or a drink at the Perch; but as I said last time if you run around the whole Meadow (i.e. via the Trout Inn) it's quite a way back to West Oxford via Wolvercote.

If you are further out there is Cumnor Hill to exercise the lungs, or, especially if you would like to see the dreaming spires, head for Raleigh Park. This used to be a famous viewing point in the 19th century, but now you have to look over the industrial buildings of Osney to see the ancient towers and spires of the University. Incidentally, talking of views, the view of St Barnabas Church and the University beyond from Port Meadow have sadly been affected by the erection by the University itself (of all people) of those ghastly flats near Oxford Station.

SOUTH OXFORD

If you're anywhere near the River Thames then there is a convenient access point to the tow-path at Folly Bridge. The tow-path is an ancient track beside the river which has fairly recently been made into a proper footpath all the way to London, if you head downstream. You first follow the river along towards Iffley Lock, passing the college boathouses and various canoe and rowing clubs. In fact it's a hive of activity until you get downstream of the lock when you very suddenly find yourself in deep countryside. If you're very fit you can run to the attractive old town of Abingdon, but then you've got to get back again so it might be better to put your feet up and go by Salter's Steamers which do regular trips from Folly Bridge.

Upstream along the tow-path is also an attractive run these days; what used to be a rather scruffy part of Oxford has now been renovated and it's quite fun following the various twists of the river to Botley Road and beyond.

The main park in South Oxford is Hinksey Park; this has lots of paths and trails and is off the Abingdon Road not far south of Folly Bridge. It's got one great advantage if this warm weather continues: it's got a swimming pool!

If you are a little further out of town on the south side of the city, I would strongly recommend Boar's Hill; this provides tremendous views over the ancient university and is the spot where the poet Matthew Arnold coined the phrase "dreaming spires".

I'll cover East Oxford next time and meanwhile good luck with your running!

Running In Oxford

I once read an article about how business people try to keep fit on a business trip. Hotel gyms are normally boring affairs. Usually you are the only person there, and there isn't much to raise the heart rate except for those mind-numbingly boring running machines. So the article went on to talk about going for a run in a strange city. There were a few do's and don'ts, like not taking your shirt off in case the locals were offended, but the main part consisted of suggested jogging routes for various cities. I remember Singapore was one - it told you that everybody goes to the MacRitchie Reservoirs and to avoid running on public streets (of course I ignored that when I was there).

Oxford was unsurprisingly not included in the article, but it is an especially good place to go running, almost wherever you are, or wherever your hotel or host family is located. It's not too big, and has plenty of green spaces. Some might say it's a little lacking in hills, but others will be glad to potter along on the level.....

Let's take some of the key areas:

CENTRAL OXFORD.
Although there's no park right in the city centre, there are two fantastic running places within very easy reach of even the unfittest jogger. But first I suppose we need to decide what's the difference between a runner and a jogger. Some years ago when they used to have the 'Sunday Times Fun Run' in Hyde Park in London, I heard it said that anyone who couldn't complete a marathon in under 3 hours 40 minutes could consider themselves a mere jogger. I'm definitely a 'mere' jogger then - especially nowadays! All the suggested routes in this article suit the jogger as well as more serious runners.

Back to the two fantastic places. First there is the University Parks. This lies between the Banbury Road and the River Cherwell; you can't do a lap (about 10 mins at my pace) without seeing stacks of other runners - mostly female, whether in term or out. Very scenic and safe, and you can run on the grass as well as the paths; in this respect the Parks differs from the other popular run, which is around Christ Church Meadow , and where you do stick to the paths. It's slightly shorter than the Parks, but you get tremendous views of both of Oxford's rivers: in fact the Cherwell (famous for punting) meets the Thames (famous for rowing and motor boats) in the Meadow. The Parks at the moment close at 9.30pm while the Meadow just says 'dusk' - about the same time, I suppose. Both of them give instructions to the runner who accidentally gets locked in - you needn't worry - you won't have to spend a night there clad only in your sweaty shorts.

NORTH OXFORD
For those of you lucky enough to live amongst the so-called 'North Oxford Toffs' there are two areas where you can go for quite decent runs. First there's Port Meadow: this has access points from lots of places such as Wolvercote or Jericho. It's a lovely run along the Thames north-west of Oxford. But be warned - it's quite far and there aren't many bridges, so don't try to be too ambitious! Then there is Cutteslowe Park, the largest public park in Oxford, located just outside the ring road, to the north of the city. You can get there easily from the Banbury Road roundabout. Cutteslowe Park also hosts Oxford's Parkrun, an international organisation which puts on 5k runs; these are free and start at 9am every Saturday morning: it's just a case of getting out of bed on time!

Wimbledon 2014

Barring an unlikely string of results and a heap of Italian good fortune, the England football team were seemingly eliminated last night from the 2014 World Cup. Following a a weekend in which the National rugby team also lost a decisive match in their test series against the New Zealand, English and indeed British eyes will begin peering hopefully ahead to the start of the 2014 Wimbledon tennis tournament on the 23rd June.

In last year's final Andrew Murray dramatically defeated Novak Djokovic 6-4 7-5 6-4 to end Britain's 77 year wait for a Wimbledon Men's Champion. In 2014 Murray enters the tournament as the 3rd seed and whilst he is arguably under significantly less pressure than in recent years, many Britons will be pinning their hopes on the Scot to revive a thus far underwhelming year of British sport.
Britain's top Women's prospect Laura Robson has already been ruled out of this year's Tournament with a wrist injury, dashing any hopes of finding a successor to 1977 champion Virginia wade and leaving Murray still firmly in the spotlight. 2014 also presents Murray with the unique opportunity to become the first Briton to win consecutive Wimbledon titles in the professional era, a feat which would no doubt see him entrenched amongst the legends of the sport, a spot which many would argue is already well deserved.

Whilst it may not have the furor, high fashion and foods of centre court, it is a common sight during the tournament to see our students relaxing between classes by watching the matches together in the student lounge, indeed as the weather continues to improve many of them may take the opportunity to visit the Wimbledon grounds or even pick up a racquet themselves here in one of Oxford's many parks!  

Scenic walks in Oxford

The weather is just glorious at the moment so it is a perfect time to get out and about.  Oxfordshire is blessed with some spectacularly picturesque scenery. One of the great things about Oxford is that within 15 minutes walk of the centre of town, you can find yourself trailing into the heart of England’s green and pleasant countryside. Check out one of these fabulous walking locations to make the most of a dry weekend:

Within 20 minutes of the centre of town:
Christchurch Meadows 
Port Meadow
Shotover

And a little further afield:
Blenheim Palace grounds
The Cotswolds

If you are in Oxford and have a free day, then click on the image below to see some great country walking routes:

And why not listen to this song while you are planning your route: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qg7KsemZGIc

Swans on the River Cherwell - Kit Villiers

"What's that white thing?" I said to myself as I peered through our rather less than kempt bushes which are supposed to shield us from the river. I meandered somewhat further down the garden. "Oh, only a swan," my thoughts continued as I rounded the bushes. But wait a minute; what was that grey smudge beside it? In fact there are as we speak a brace of swans - presumably a couple - and two tiny cygnets treating the bottom of our garden as their home. The cygnets looked as though they'd only just been born. "Why are they not in their nest?" I wondered.

 

My first thought was that the family had decided on our garden as a sort of second home. After all, they've got a great view up or down stream, and they are right by the entrance to the backwater which forms the island at Sunnymead if they want an alternative bit of water to swim about in.  The attraction of this spot seemed to be confirmed on my second visit to inspect the family when I'd seen the parents grabbing bits of willow and piling them on the lawn. But then the house-building appeared to stop.  Lack of planning permission? Certainly we would object - messy things, swans, even without a nest!  But then I realised that a more likely explanation is that they've been flooded out of their original home - after all, the river has risen a couple of feet with all the rain we had last week. In fact I was surprised to see that people are still punting when I was cycling near the Vicky Arms shortly after I made my swan discovery.

 

So, presumably until the young get a bit bigger, or until the river drops and they buzz off back home again, we've got (as birds go) some fairly large neighbours, or perhaps that should be uninvited guests? Am I supposed to tell the Queen? She does own them, after all.  Certainly we'd better not harm them, otherwise she will not be amused. I wonder what the punishment is?

 

One problem is mowing the lawn. This is a job it's a bit difficult to do quietly. I have gone as close as I dare, and the parents just stare at me warily. They don't budge though, and I'm wondering if I can mow a little closer. Or perhaps wait until they go off for their morning constitutional? They do go off for the odd paddle, but never when I'm there poised with the lawn-mower...So in short the lower lawn still looks a bit of a mess.

 

I'm not anti-swan, mind you. A few years ago we did have a proper nest and together with our neighbours witnessed 8 eggs hatched:  they even sent an Oxford Mail photographer along. But that family were on a sort of promontory amongst the weeds and nettles, not scrunching up our lawn! Other wildlife includes mallards, terns and Canada geese, and we had a large heron the other day. I keep a constant look-out for water voles, but I suppose they've gone for ever as I haven't seen one for years. Some say this is because some mink escaped into the river, but I haven't seen one of those either for some years.

 

So it's all go on the banks of the Cherwell. Watch this space for further developments.

The Oxford May Eights

Eights Week starts this Wednesday, 28th May, and continues to Saturday 31st. "That's only 4 days" observed my American friend when I told him this some years ago. "Well, racing did go on for a whole week in the olden days," I responded, " But it was reduced to just 4 days over 50 years ago, I believe, because some undergraduates felt that they had to get back to their books. After all, many students have exams at the end of this term."

We were walking through Christ Church Meadow towards the Thames. (I would have called it the Isis, but that would have involved another long verbal tussle). "Quick", I said, "I think there's a race coming."  We dashed over to the riverbank. About 5 eights rowed past in single file, and rather spread out too. They looked pretty exhausted. "Is that it?" my trans-Atlantic chum enquired, looking distinctly unimpressed.

"I think we've been a bit unlucky; I should imagine that the other boats all bumped out! Don't worry, there'll be another division starting soon - look, that women's eight is going down to the start at Iffley Lock."

"Very thrilling, I'm sure," he responded, " But what the heck does 'bumped out' mean? Why can't they get on and have a decent race?"

A slightly fuller explanation seemed in order. "The river is too narrow for side by side racing; besides there are about 38 colleges and each has several crews, both men and women. The only way is to race in single file and try to catch the boat in front - you literally touch or hit it. That's a bump, and the next day those 2 boats change places and try again. The eight finishing any particular day at the head of a division (13 crews per division) is called the 'sandwich' boat, and rows again at the foot of the next division. The colleges at the head of division 1 (men and women) on Saturday are 'Head of the River'.

"And I thought cricket was bad enough" he said, scratching his head. I had to admit he still looked rather unconvinced.

"Tell you what, if we get a move on we'll be at the college boathouses before the next race. There's far more atmosphere there: you should hear the cheering if a bump takes place in front of the crowds. You'll like it. There'll be lots of pretty girls in party dresses, chaps sporting their college blazers, and, especially on Saturday, music, BBQs and beer at student prices."

"Sounds better, I admit," he acknowledged. But he had one last go. "I'll bet nobody famous has ever rowed here" he asserted.

I was able to deal with this one: "Remember that row over who invented Facebook? Those twins from Harvard who made millions from that court case rowed for Christ Church recently. And just last year Pembroke College were stroked by an Olympic gold medallist."

"Lead on."

The Red Letter Box

Britain's iconic red letter boxes - 'the red heart of the British streetscape' (BBC News Magazine)

One of the UK's rarest postboxes celebrated its 150th anniversary last year. But what is the future for this red emblem of the British streetscape?  Will the red postbox sadly follow the same fate as the red phone box?  And now that the privatisation of the Royal Mail has taken place, are other colours set to replace the familiar red?

The first pillar boxes were erected at St Helier in Jersey in 1852, at the recommendation of novelist Anthony Trollope - who was an employee of the General Post Office at the time. The first boxes were erected in Britain a year later.

Designs varied but in 1859 an improved cylindrical design was adopted for standard use nationwide. A Liverpool postmaster decided to rebel, and after a waging a long battle with London, the Liverpool Special letter box - with its increased capacity and chunkily cast crown on top - was born.

Andrew Young, chairman of the Letter Box Study Group, views that in a deregulated system, there could be a decline in numbers of the traditional form of the red boxes.

"There is a question over who would become responsible for the heritage," says Young. "It would take a campaign to determine who had liability."

This would be a great shame as the Traditional letter box has many fans.  For many communities, they are a reassuring presence - a cheerful, red splash that has stood out on British streets for a more than a century and a half.

Jonathan Glancey, writer and author of Pillar Boxes, sees them as miniature works of architecture, as a "glorious piece of public design", both functional and aesthetic, that has stood the test of time.

"Postboxes - like the old telephone boxes - are symbolic of democratic order and high standards. Whether you lived in Toxteth or Mayfair, there was the same standards for public design."

Lets hope the red boxes will remain.  But what are your views?  What colour would you be happy to see replace the traditional and vibrant red?

The full article can be read here.

If you have enjoyed reading about the red letter box, why not stay on red theme and read our article about The Big Red British Telephone Box

The Four Minute Mile - Kit Villiers

Lots of things happen in May in Oxford. With the university disappearing on its endless Long Vacation in early June, May is the month for summer balls, Eights Week (28th to 31st), exams, and of course the traditional start of spring with May Morning at Magdalen Bridge (see earlier article).

More by way of a one-off occurred at the Iffley Road running track on 6 May 1954. On that windy afternoon, at 6pm to be precise, one R.G. Bannister, running for the Amateur Athletic Association against his old Alma Mater, Oxford University, made history. He became the first person in the world to run a mile in under 4 minutes, achieving the feat in 3.59.4. About 2,000 spectators were at the track that day, although if all those who claim they saw Bannister breasting the tape were speaking the truth, there would have been approximately 10 times that number! I'm almost one of those fibbers. I was actually about one mile away, assiduously doing my 'prep' at New College School in Savile Road when the epic event took place, and heard about it only the next morning.

Why was it such a big deal? Before it was broken, the 4 minute barrier was held in some mystique; some doctors said that the human body just wasn't capable of running so fast. But Bannister (a doctor himself) thought it only a matter of time before someone did it. The Swedes had got awfully close during the wear when not much athletics took place, and now John Landy in Australia and one or two others were threatening too.

So the AAA put together a fantastic team for this normally fairly low key match in Oxford: Chris Brasher (the founder of the London Marathon) would set the pace for the first 2 laps, then Chris Chataway (later the Mo Farah of the day, and an MP)  would take over for the third, leaving Sir Roger to make his bid for life time fame over the fourth, and final, lap. The rest is history.... and Bannister is a household name and will be for the rest of his life for this one achievement, now 60 years in the past.

I suppose Sir Roger is particularly well-known in Oxford: he was an undergraduate at Exeter College, much later Master of Pembroke College and still lives here.  But, judging by my asking a few of our learners at OISE and some other non-Brits, he seems to be almost totally unknown abroad. I suppose this might be because the mile is now a rarely run event, as we've all gone metric now. 1500 metres is the equivalent Olympic distance, and it's quite easy to run that in under 4 minutes - or so I'm told!

On the other hand great crowds showed up at Iffley Road for both the 40 and 50 year anniversaries, and even this year (the sixtieth) the Oxford Mail was reliving the whole event yet again; it also gave great prominence to Sir Roger's recent announcement that he has Alzheimer's and sadly has difficulty in walking. Certainly for English people of a certain age, whether they are runners or not, Bannister is a household name, but perhaps less so for younger people. I read somewhere that Bannister has the unusual distinction of having a road named after him in Oxford while still alive. They've changed the name of the track too.

In fact, despite the fuss, Bannister's world record didn't last long: it was broken by Landy shortly afterwards. But it's still Bannister whom we remember, at least for now. But perhaps when he and his generation are no longer with us, the four minute mile will just fade into history. After all, who nowadays remembers the awesome breaking of the 6 foot barrier in the high jump, which took place in Marston in the 19th century? Answer - almost nobody!

By Kit Villiers

Oxford University - the colleges

"At last!  I've found the University!" my learner announced one Monday morning. Since he'd been at OISE at least two weeks by that time, and I knew he'd already visited Harry Potter College (sorry - Christ Church), I was a little puzzled by this opening sally. I thought I'd subtly enquire somewhat further before proceeding with the topic of the day, the Second Conditional.

 

"Congratulations!" I responded. "Er - where exactly did you go?"

 

"Oh, it's a little bit of a walk," he said, pointing vaguely in a northerly direction. "I don't recall the road names, but I was walking around on Saturday, and suddenly discovered all these laboratories and I think there was the University Museum as well."

 

It transpired that in his quest to discover England's most ancient university he had dismissed the whole of the City Centre and the colleges, assuming that 'college' meant the same as in France, i.e. that the colleges were for the education of English schoolchildren, and therefore they could not be anything to do with the university.

 

In fact the 38 or so colleges are an integral part of the University of Oxford. If you've got some good 'A' levels and  want to study, say, English at Oxford, you must apply to a college in order to do so, not the university itself. This is because the great majority of teaching is done at the college level, generally by means of a weekly meeting with your 'tutor' (teacher) who will expect you to have researched and written an essay on a topic he or she gave you at the previous week's 'tutorial' (one to one lesson, usually of one hour). Your essay will be read out by you and criticized by the tutor. Tutors are employed by your college. It's because of the college teaching system that the individual colleges compete in the BBC TV quiz University Challenge, and not Oxford University.

 

To clear up another commonly held misapprehension, the colleges do not specialise in any particular subject: one can 'read' - i.e. study - history, for example at any college, although it is true that certain colleges get a reputation for excellence in something, and this can be self-perpetuating as better students try to get there.

 

Colleges are not just 'dorms', as one learner I taught recently thought. Colleges are self-governing entities. They have their own traditions and, very often, extensive land holdings. St John's College  - where Tony Blair studied - is one of the largest land-owners in the UK, and used to be even richer until the Leasehold Reform Act in the 1960s resulted in much of its holdings in North Oxford being sold to its tenants. The Queen's College owns most of Southampton Docks, or so I heard the other day, and the shops on one side of Cornmarket are owned by Jesus College.

 

Apart from teaching their undergraduates, colleges also provide accommodation and, in their famous dining halls, meals too. They run sports teams, having (mostly) their own sports-grounds and boathouses. All of the colleges are, officially at least,  Anglican; they have a priest or rector (called a Chaplain) and, usually, a beautiful chapel. Music plays a big part in college life; almost every evening in term-time one can attend a concert or chapel service in one college or another.

 

Although it wasn't true for the university's first 800 years, all colleges are now mixed; another fairly recent trend is that there are almost as many post-graduates as undergraduates these days.

 

Even before Harry Potter, Christ Church was the college most visited by tourists. Its links with Eton (a great 'public' school where many leaders of British society were and are educated), its famous Hall where one can see portraits of several Prime Ministers, philosophers and other distinguished old boys, including Lewis Carroll, the creator of Alice in Wonderland, saw to that. Second most popular is Magdalen, the grounds of which extend a full mile back from the famous Tower and Magdalen Bridge, the scene of the May Morning celebrations.

 

And what does that leave for the University to do? That'll have to wait for another time.....

Kit Villiers

May Morning - by Kit Villiers

Would we make it in time? Dawn was approaching, and our punt 'Jemima' was still way upstream of the bridge. Gradually though we became aware of other boats on the same mission: i.e., to get to Magdalen Bridge in time for the 6.00AM rendition of two Latin hymns by the choir of Magdalen College, Oxford.  Going by punt is the traditional way of celebrating May Morning. That may be fine if you are an undergraduate with a college punt moored handily nearby: you and your girlfriend, possibly with another couple or two (punts are supposed to hold 5, but 6 is OK at a pinch) might be able to embark early on May morning, but we had had to punt down from the Upper Cherwell, and had even endured a night in sleeping bags on that little island near the Dragon School in order to get to the ceremony on time.

 

At about 5.55AM the bridge, already thronged with people, loomed up in the early morning mist, and our little flotilla joined dozens of other  boats, the occupants - mostly students in dinner jackets and long dresses fresh from all-night College balls - gazing expectantly skywards. Suddenly the bells on the ancient college tower struck 6.00; the crowd, both those on the bridge and on the water heard the peels loud and clear, and we all fell silent. What followed though was unfortunately a bit of an anti-climax: the words of Hymnus Eucharisticus were rendered almost totally inaudible by the breeze and the distance from the top of the tower to the river beneath.

 

The scene I have tried to describe took place many years ago. I tend to go by bike now - when I wake up in time. We didn't really care about not hearing the music. After all, May Morning is an Oxford tradition. The choir has been climbing Magdalen Tower and singing the same music on 1 May for over 500 years. And in fact you can hear the singing now, as one innovation of recent years seems to be some sort of amplifier system on the tower.

 

Then as now, 10,000 people get up early and struggle down the High St for the ceremony. I suppose it must be in all the tourist literature, because I would say the crowd is about one third University, one third townsfolk like me, and one third visitors, including language students. I recall the last time I went I ended up having breakfast with two Japanese ladies who were in Oxford at some language school or other - I forget which. 

If the hymns were all, I don't think I'd bother to go again. But that's just the start. The bells toll for the next 20 minutes, and the crowd slowly disperses back up the High towards Carfax. The first thing you see is the Morris dancers; most tourists seem to ignore these fine old rustic gentlemen these days, but I rather like the feeling of a tradition largely unchanged through the ages, and that, the Morrismen being largely townies, May Morning provides a nice link between Town and Gown. Passing by the Morrismen - perhaps now there are Morris ladies too - I haven't been recently to check it out - many folk head for breakfast. Lots of coffee houses and restaurants open early, and from what I've seen do a cracking business for most of the morning. It's a really nice scene, and revellers throng the High for hours, the Latin hymns quite forgotten.

 

If you go  - and I recommend it even if you make it only the once - there are two things to remember. Firstly don't jump off Magdalen Bridge - it's dangerous! The Cherwell is not as deep as it looks, and you can break a leg. And secondly, for those learners who live beyond the bridge, you might experience delays as the whole area of St Clement's gets very busy. Having said that, you'll still make it on time for the News Review as the Council and the police have said the bridge is to remain open this year.

Kit Villiers

Boat Race Aftermath

By OISE Oxford tutor Kit Villiers

It's over for another year, and at least one can say that Oxford won; rather easily too - by 11 lengths. But it was a bit unsatisfactory both for the large victory margin and for the manner of it. 11 lengths reminds me of the one sided contests during my formative years, normally with poor old Oxford trailing in far behind, exhausted and demoralised. The races were so often not proper contests in those days, and therefore can't have been much fun for the public lining the banks of the Tideway.

I suppose it's impossible to know how many spectators there were, or indeed how many there ever are. The BBC estimated 250,000 in London (plus of course countless millions on TV). My impression is that interest continues pretty unflagged, and that crowd figures if anything are increasing. I'm sure this is because the standard is higher with all the internationals on board, but it probably also reflects the fact that we've had so many close and dramatic races in recent years. Oxford's victory by just 1 foot in 2003 is one such example. The 2012 race was shaping up to be another classic when it was interrupted by that rather foolhardy swimmer - but that incident itself gave the event added interest. So let's hope we're not returning to the days of boring processions again.

And so to the clash. In brief, Oxford drew steadily away from Cambridge following an overlap near Harrod's Depository  - well before Hammersmith and only about 5 minutes into the race - where the Light Blues' 2 (that's Cambridge) came into contact with the Dark Blues' 7. Unfortunately the Cambridge man  (a large American, like most of his crewmates) came off worse; he caught a crab - i.e. his oar hit him with terrific force in the chest, knocking him backwards into the lap of bow - and he then missed about 6 strokes. The missed strokes are less important than the fact that catching the crab meant that the boat had to come to a dead halt in order to extract the oar, and Oxford just went clear.

Cambridge's 18 year old cox raised his arm in protest at the finish, but the umpire  - rightly in my opinion - wasn't having any of it, as he'd warned Cambridge to stop boring in on Oxford only a few seconds before. The BBC commentator raised the question as to what might have happened if it had been Oxford in the wrong, claiming that Cambridge's protest might then have had some merit. Theoretically perhaps, but discussing the matter at home we could think of no time when a crew has been disqualified. Of greater interest to me was Cambridge's claim that 2's rigger was damaged in the clash and he couldn't pull properly afterwards. I must say his difficulty wasn't apparent, but perhaps that was just his skill. I suspect that there must be truth in the allegation as I don't think there was really 11 lengths difference between the crews.  Having said that, Oxford had moved out to a half length lead just before the incident and were about to embark on the long Surrey bend in their favour. I note the Oxford President was fulsome in his condolences in the Oxford Mail, and he - an Olympic gold medal winner - was in the best position of all to see what occurred from his position of 5; after all his eyes would always be on his No. 7 from whom he takes his time.  

Well, unlike Oxford, most of Cambridge return for another go next year. But I suspect the 2015 event will be overshadowed by the first ever women's boat race over the full Putney to Mortlake course. Up to now, the Varsity women have raced each other at Henley, far from world media, and have rowed less than half the distance.

And finally to the perennial (but rather hypothetical) question as to how would Oxford Brookes get on in the Boat Race, I can only quote the Brookes student newspaper when I was doing my teaching training there: they might struggle for a year or two, but then they'd give the old universities a very good run for their money.....

Oxford's Peculiar Pitt Rivers Museum

This approaching weekend as part of our Cultural Programme we are going to the Pitt Rivers Museum.  Here is some handy details regarding this great museum.

Oxford is home to a wide variety of intriguing museums, amongst them the impressive Ashmolean and the ancient Museum of the History of Science. But tucked away behind the spectacular Museum of Natural History lies a treasure trove of obscure delights. This is the Pitt Rivers Museum, founded in 1884 by Augustus Pitt–Rivers, a military man with a bristling set of side whiskers and a Victorian thirst to discover and understand the empire and the world.

During his research into firearm development, Augustus discovered some ancient flint tools which sparked an obsession with collecting artefacts, past and present, from a plethora of cultures. He later donated his 22,000-piece collection to the University of Oxford, thus establishing the Pitt Rivers Museum.

The museum’s collection has now grown to 500,000 items, many of which have been donated by travellers, scholars and missionaries and includes fascinating anthropological and archeological artefacts from all over the world. Shrunken heads, tribal costumes and masks and even a witch in a bottle are just a few of the gems that attract visitors to the museum.

Fiona Bruce, presenter of BBC 1’s popular programme Antiques Roadshow recently wrote the following in a review of the museum:

‘If Indiana Jones created a museum, this Oxford institution would be it. A collection of half a million objects from all around the world crammed in glass cabinets, packed into drawers, mounted on the walls and hanging from the ceiling in a galleried hall illuminated beneath a soaring neo-gothic roof created from 8,000 individual glass tiles.’

For more details, visit the museum’s website: www.prm.ox.ac.uk

Source: 'Fiona Bruce's Britain: The Pitt Rivers Museum, Oxford', www.telegraph.co.uk 

The Boat Race

By OISE Oxford tutor Kit Villiers

The 160th University Boat Race takes place on the River Thames in London on 6 April. This rowing race is the oldest annual battle between the students of Oxford and Cambridge, and most probably the oldest rowing fixture in the world; it still runs virtually unchanged from 1829 when the first race took place. England's two famous universities try to compete with each other in every conceivable sport these days from dance to darts, but it is the Boat Race which still captures the public's attention with thousands lining the banks of the river and millions more tuned in to the TV coverage.  

Even people who have never been to Oxford or Cambridge shout for their favourite and wave a dark blue flag (Oxford) or a light blue one for 'the other place'.  The two crews have become much more professional over the years. More and more postgraduates, some of them international oarsmen, now appear in the two eights and the standard is high. Last year Oxford in training defeated the German Olympic Eight, and this year they have 3 Olympic medal winners on board. Oxford have 4 Britons, 2 Canadians, 2 New Zealanders and 1 American while Cambridge include 4 Americans and a German who is 6' 8'' (about 2 metres).

But equally important in the Boat Race is the smallest man in the boat - the cox. Because the race is over a long (4 and a half miles) and twisty course with complex tides and currents, a good cox is vital to a crew's success. He's important for safety too. 2 years ago, an Australian protester jumped into the chilly Thames and tried to obstruct the race by swimming out in front; luckily he was spotted and quick action prevented an accident, and probably saved his life too - an eight travels very fast, and of course the oarsmen are facing where they've come from and only the cox had a chance of seeing the danger.

So if you are in London on 6 April, go down to the Thames anywhere between Putney and Mortlake and join in the fun. There are plenty of pubs on the route, so after the crews have sped past you can follow the rest on TV. Don't forget your (dark) blue flag though! Perhaps you'll be lucky enough to see a dead heat - for the first time since 1877!

How about the women, do I hear you ask? Well, about half of the students these days are ladies, and the good news is that, starting from next year, there will be a women's Boat Race too, over the same demanding course.

So, good luck to Oxford: they are slightly behind in the overall series, so need another win to catch up.

The language of the supermarket by Kit Villiers

"Did you want a bag?" the girl at the check-out counter enquires brightly.

 

"Yes, I did," I respond, hopefully equally brightly, but meanwhile wondering whether to add: "Well, it's nice of you to ask.  I did want one last week, but I don't need one today," but rejecting this particular sally knowing the implied sarcasm of her choice of tense would no doubt fall on deaf ears. I'm also a bit afraid that she would only conclude that I was simply another North Oxford toff, or possibly a rather pedantic English teacher.

 

"Have you got a card at all?" is her next question. Now even I know that she's probably referring to some wretched so-called 'loyalty' card which is supposed to persuade the discerning, money-conscious punter to purchase his or her Mother's Pride or original Flora at this particular shop, or one of its identical sisters, for the rest of his or her natural life. But of course, being one of the aforesaid toffs, I take her literally and hunt desperately in my wallet.

 

"Ah, how about this?" I exclaim, fishing out my Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club card. This is quite a useful response, I feel, as it seems to be strictly to the point but distinctly unhelpful; it works even if she has asked whether I have a 'club' card, rather than just a card. The assistant looks at me in a withering fashion, and explains patiently what it is that she wants.  One look at her distinctly unamused face convinces me that a mention of my Priority Club card, the only other remotely relevant one in the said wallet, would go down rather poorly. (Being in the Priority Club gets me about 10p off my dry-cleaning - not perhaps quite the cachet of the Hong Kong card). Finally I'm forced to admit I have no card - at least not the one she seems to be looking for.

 

I'm also tempted  to take her up on the 'at all'. But from past experience I decide not to go too heavy on this one. On an earlier occasion I tried: "Well, I think I might be able to lay my hands on part of a card, but I seem to have left it at home." This was also received with a blank look, and now as an alternative I just say "Sorry, not at all" - and receive an equally blank look for what I consider has been a genuine attempt to help her get the question right next time.

 

But of course she wins in the end. When she's finished whacking the till, she asks: "And did you need help packing, love?" I am naturally really hurt at the implication that I've become an old dodderer. The impression  I have been trying to get across is of an admittedly slightly mature shopper, but one still capable of stepping pretty smartly up and down the aisles when the occasion demands. I try not to show my dismay.

 

"Well, perhaps I could manage to load these sugar-free Polos on my own,  but if you could help me with the Vim, etc., it would be much appreciated."  Once more, she's not amused. Where do they get their staff from these days?

Kit Villiers

British Cheese - Possibly the Greatest Cheese in the World!

Our in-house foodie, Samantha Bardsley, previously posted a brilliant piece on some of Britain's culinary specialties (click here to read 'An English Winner Dinner'). As this post received some great feedback from our readers, we thought we would narrow this subject down to the dairy delight, cheese!

The French tend to get most recognition for their cheese, but most experienced cheese eaters will agree that Britain provides even better. Included in the 700 cheeses that Britain has to offer, we have:

Bath Blue

Barkham Blue
Blue Monday (named after the song by New Order)
Buxton Blue (Protected Designation of Origin, currently not produced[1])
Cheshire Blue
Cornish Blue
Devon Blue
Dorset Blue Vinney
Dovedale (Protected Designation of Origin)
Exmoor Blue (Protected Geographical Indication)
Harbourne Blue
Lanark Blue, Scotland
Lymeswold no longer produced.
Oxford Blue
Shropshire Blue
Stichelton
Stilton (Protected Designation of Origin)
Blue Wensleydale
Yorkshire Blue

My personal favorite has to be Stinking Bishop. When you're next in Oxford, head to The Oxford Cheese Shop in the Covered Market, just below OISE Oxford, and pick up some Stinking Bishop and crackers, and enjoy!