Oxford

I spent three – or was it four? – years living in Oxford and despite being a country bumpkin, thoroughly enjoyed my time there. Oxford, like just a handful of other cities, doesn’t glorify concrete and granite over the natural world (well, apart from Cornmarket Street, but we won’t dwell on that monstrosity) and has made room for trees, grass and open spaces amongst the shops, business and inevitable spires. And talking of spires, the Colleges can’t even lay claim to this sense of space since they are (mostly) closed off from the public gaze.

Sunset over Oxford (19 December 2005)

It’s a strange place to be, Oxford. Pullman’s alternative version is no less strange, even alien, than our own. The city has its obvious associations with students, but it’s easy to forget that it is also home to Oxford Brookes as well as the University, not forgetting the annual migration of summer school students once their older counterparts have returned to the parental nest. Tourists are both a plague and a blessing. The kebab vans are just a plague but the restaurants on Cowley Road hold their own against every other city.

The horrendous and disgusting cost of housing aside, whoever you are, whatever your background, beliefs or interests, there’s a place for you in Oxford and if you take a second glance, you’ll see that there is so much more to the city than its dreaming spires.