Well, I'm here and still alive. Although I have to admit, I forgot about this blog, what with everything else I've been doing. But everyone's favourite Anglophile wouldn't let me just forget about this blog, oh no. One scolding email later, here I am, writing again. So those of you who are reading, you have fiona to thank.

Right now it is late afternoon and I am sitting here in my room overlooking the Isis (the Thames to the plebians), and having a late tea of cheese, crackers and earl grey. Just outside my window, the river forks, and at the fork there is an old boathouse of red brick. The far bank is obscured by trees, their leaves turning a mixture of fiery reds and yellows and browns as autumn creeps slowly up on us. Small paddle boats, as well as a larger touristy sightseeing boat, are moored at the boathouse. The sun is setting, casting a glow upon the entire scene. Small waves are travelling across the surface of the river as a gentle wind blows.

Alright, at this point I suppose I should answer fiona's laundry list of questions.

- No, we don't have to wear uniforms, for goodness' sake. This is university, not public school. However for the past week I have been donning my duster and brown fedora, and thus I have cut a very distinctive and consistent profile. It is my misfortune to be known practically everywhere- Rhodes House, my college Middle Common Room (MCR) and anywhere else I frequent- as 'the guy with the hat.' However there is a gown that we must all wear during matriculation (when we formally enter our colleges), sunday dinners, formal occasions, examinations, and graduation. Combined with a black suit, white bowtie and mortarboard, the ensemble is known as a 'sub-fusc'.

- Yes, I went to the Bodleian. It is very, very old- far older than I expected. The main courtyard of the Bod is surrounded by doors, above which in blue and gold lettering are marked various subjects. I'm not quite sure why that is- perhaps they mark the different entrances for where the books were kept in the old days. The old reading room runs across the entire top of the Bod, and inscribed on a marble panel are the names of the benfactors- starting with the Duke of Worchester in the 1600s up to modern day, with names like Pearson PLC. Of course, everything is written in latin, so I wouldn't have known what it all said unless someone told me. Beneath the Bod are hundreds of miles of bookshelves. The Bod is a copyright library, so it is supposed to have everybook ever published. However, it has been struggling manfully to keep up in the last decade or so, so it is rather behind. The tunnels connect to other annexes of the Bod, such as the Radcliffe Camera.

- Yes, I have met slightly foppish Brit boys. I'll remember to ask them if they have an Asian fetish, but don't count on it.