My take

By ianpiper

Balliol

If you were a student starting at Oxford this term you couldn't have asked for a better day to arrive. Oxford was warm and sunny, the stone of Balliol honey-gold, and Broad Street was full of anxious parents with the boots of their posh cars up, decanting the belongings of their progeny outside the porter's lodge. Envious, moi? You bet; wish I was 18 again and starting on that journey!

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