Oxford My Way

Back in the days of British Rail, I often used to add a few day’s vacation to one of the many May long weekends here in France and fly to England. Then, I decided where I wanted to go, went to the local tourist office and used their Book a Bed Ahead service. For a small fee, they found you a bed and breakfast at your destination for that night. I’d take the train in late afternoon, spend the night, explore what I could the next day and move on. On one of these trips, sometime in the ‘80s, I visited Oxford for the first time.

It was the day before Ascension Thursday. As I walked along past various colleges bookstores and pubs, I came to an ancient church called St Michael at the North Gate.

A sign outside said “Tomorrow – beating of the bounds”. That sounded intriguing. I needed to find someone to tell me what it meant. It was nearly dinner time and the church was near the Randolph Hotel (the very place Lord Peter Wimsey suggested taking Harriet Vane to in Gaudy Night!).

Surely someone there could help me? Several waiters conferred but no one knew. They decided to ring a colleague who was not working that evening since he “knew everything about Oxford”. Soon, my waiter came back to my table with the information. The beating of the bounds was an ancient custom. Once a year, the congregation went round the boundary of the Parish. An ancient custom in an ancient city sounded good. Thursday afternoon I left Oxford, a little disconcerted that I hadn’t been to any museums or taken any bus tours. True, I had run through the town with a stick following the priest, the choir and twenty or so parishioners, been fed cookies and ale at one college and lunch at another (drinking water out of a tankard pewter tankard that had the year 1746 engraved on it.) In between I had visited a pub (sherry) the local Marks and Spencers (mince pies in the employees’ dining room), the City Hall, the outside of the Sheldonian Theater and the Bodleian Library. Watch this video of a more recent Beating of the Bounds and you’ll understand why it’s still one of my most vivid memories. I’ve had several other trips to Oxford since but they were short ones for shopping or a meal while visiting friends that lived nearby. I still hadn’t managed to take a tour or see a museum. Then, in January, I got an invitation.

At last, I was going to Oxford again. I stayed at the Randolph and went to the new make-over of the very old Ashmolean Museum.

Still not as a normal tourist should, however. I had dinner there.