I’ve been here for around 28 hours now, and done very very little.
Suzi’s parent’s drove us here and while they helped her with her stuff at Lincoln (her college) I set off for Balliol (mine). I went into the Admissions Room, where a number of students said hello whilst one gave me my room key. I was then shown by room. It has burn marks on the notice board, the word “Buller” written on the wall, and my pillowcase appears to have been stolen from New College. Nice.
I’d been told that there was a notice board in the JCR (Junior Common Room) that I should check, so that is where I went.
I entered the JCR and looked around. There were a group of people chatting on the sofas. I wasn’t sure whether they were students or applicants, but with hindsight I’m certain they were the former. When they noticed my arrival they all fell silent and looked at me.
“Hallo,” a girl said.
“Hallo,” I replied. “Where’s this noticeboard I’ve been told to find?”
“It’s over there.” She points to a corner.
I mutter my thanks and walk over to inspect it.
One of the boys in the group commences to sing. It wasn’t a song I recognised, and I doubt it would have much mass appeal, so I’m guessing it was made up on the spot.
“Look at the lonely applicant,
Who arrived far too early,
He’s all on his own,
How very awkward.”
Hmm. Nice welcome. I decided it was time to refind Suzi.
I met up with her and her parents, and we all had lunch in a little cafe. Oxford does seem to be the capital of the cafe. I’ve already been to numberous coffe shops, cafes and tea rooms. Each serving the most delicious of cakes. If my application is successful expect a dramatic increase in my weight, and circumference.
We left Suzi’s parents and went to meet Lizzy Gunstone. She had supposed to have left her room by 10 that morning, it was now around 4 and her room was far from empty. We went for a drink at a local pub, whose name escapes me. Apparently it’s the place to go after Matriculation (the ceremony where first years officially join the university) at around 10 o clock, for heavy drinking. It could easily be five hundred years old. We had a glass of mulled wine each (delicious) and sat down. The three of us chatted for a bit before we all left to return to Balliol (Lizzy’s college, and the college I’m applying to). I agreed to take a bag of her things with me back to Nottingham, because she was going to London and then Paris, and it’s unlikely that she’d need her psychology notes at either place. She wished us both good luck and we left so she could get ready for her trip.
We then went to meet up with Patrick (a friend of mine from NAGTY - Canterbury) and his friend David (who comments on Tilou Milou) and another friend who I’ve not heard of before. Ed I believe.
Patrick was eager to show me the basement of Blackwell’s bookshop, and David seemed similarily so, so that was decided. He spoke of how amazed I’d be when I saw what was there, so I was quite excited. Unfortunately, it was just a bunch of books. What a let down.
We then set off for Starbucks to meet one Patrick and David’s friends, Andy, and his girlfriend Candy. Candy and Andy. Fantastic.
We mooched around for a bit, rearranging the seats so we could fit all of us around a table, and then set off to meet Tabs (another NAGTYer from Canterbury). We met her, but by that time it was pretty much time for dinner. We all returned to our various colleges for food.
Dinner was good but not as good as I was expecting from previous experience. I was surrounded by people from 3 continents. Quite the international college it seems. After dinner, all the prospective Balliol PPEists set off for ice cream, before returning to the college to watch Shaun of the Dead. Not a bad evening considering I didn’t know anyone. I then discovered that I wouldn’t have an interview until Tuesday morning at 9. It became hard to work out why they asked me to arrive on Sunday evening.
After a length bout on Facebook, I went to bed.
I forced myself out of bed 8 hours later. I wandered down to one of the lecture rooms where we were to be introduced to all the PPE tutors. They all seemed very nice, and a couple were very funny too. One said that he’d be asking about a book we’ve read recently. He told us to choose one we chose to read for fun, not one that someone told you to read because you’re applying for PPE. “Let’s face it, no one reads Andrew Heywood on political ideologies for fun.” That very book was sat in my suitcase, and who gave it me? JT (head teacher). And why? PPE interview. They’re clever, these Oxford fellows. Sounds good. One was a bit of a hippy, whom on previous trips to Oxford I had seen smoking a joint in the Quad. Nice.
I then went back to bed, waking again at 1230. Since then I have met up with Suzi twice for drinks and lunch, spent hours on the internet, read the Economist, and considered buying some shoes.
I’ve done less in a day. Ooh, 1830. Dinner time I think.
