I agree to interview Leo Buckley about the realities of living on a houseboat with a certain amount of trepidation. In my opinion, any student who volunteers to move out of town and subsist in a barge on the River Isis must be slightly mad. However, the sun is shining and Buckley is smiling as he greets me on the towpath and welcomes me cordially into his floating home.
The barge is dark green and pretty dilapidated, with fallen leaves and empty bottles littering the back deck.
โLetโs start with a glass of rosรฉ on the roof and then Iโll give you the Grand Tour,โ Buckley declares, pulling back a heavy tarpaulin from the boatโs entrance and springing off into the galley.
I remain on the makeshift wooden gangplank, watching and waiting. As someone with bad motion sickness, I look at the river and wince inwardly.
โHere we are!โ Buckleyโs back, brandishing a bottle of cheap alcohol. He clambers onto the roof and spreads out a picnic blanket, before offering a hand to help me up.
โHow long have you been living on the boat?โ I ask, pulling out my notebook and getting to business.
โAbout a month, since the beginning of Trinity.โ
โAnd what made you decide to leave college?โ
Buckley sips his rosรฉ and tells me the story: he was asked to leave college accommodation last term after throwing one too many parties in his room. Disliking Oxfordโs high housing prices and the prospect of finalist digs next year, he decided to โseize the momentโ and opt for this waterborne alternative.
โDo you rent?โ I ask, still deeply unconvinced by the wisdom of his decision.
Buckley nods, telling me that his landlord – or โboatlordโ – is himself a former Oxford student who now lives and works abroad. โHe lets this boat to me for a mere ยฃ440 per month. I also pay an extra ยฃ40 for one of those big canisters of gas to keep the kitchen going, but all in all, itโs very affordable.โ
I raise an eyebrow and take more notes. You get what you pay for.

At that moment, weโre interrupted, as a crew of rowers slices past on the river and almost crashes into us.
โDonโt worry!โ Buckley cries, as the boat rocks from side to side. โBarges like this are very stable and hard to capsize. Iโd say itโs unsinkable.โ
I try to smile, feeling queasy. โFamous last words.โ
โYou get used to the rowers,โ Buckley tells me, as they pull away and the cox cycles past us on the towpath, hollering. โTheyโre my community out on the river. Iโll be selling Pimms from my boat at Summer Eights and Iโve told the referee he can use my roof to plant the finishing flag!โ
After that, Buckley shows me inside. Thankfully heโs had the houseboatโs small windows open, but the place still smells musty. Maybe you get used to it with time.
First my eyes are drawn to a cushion with Tony Blairโs face on it, grinning up at me from a scruffy green couch along the galley wall.
โAs you see, I have all I could possibly need,โ Buckley says with a flourish. He then proceeds to show me the kitchen: itโs well-equipped, but a pan ofโฆ somethingโฆ is congealing on the stove and the wooden worktops look like they havenโt been cleaned properly in years. Instead, theyโre covered in crumbs and vintage issues of Playboy Magazine.
โDo you miss having a scout?โ I ask.
โNo, I think the scout system is morally questionable at best, and highly invasive at worst,โ says Buckley, answering seriously this time. Then he smiles: โBesides, I love vacuum cleaning!โ
I find this hard to believe, and my eyes widen in surprise as he produces a small handheld vacuum cleaner from a cardboard box. The device is filled with a birdโs nest of hair, debris, and something which looks like sawdust, but it does appear to have been used recently – and quite possibly for the last timeโฆ


Next comes the bathroom. Before I know it, Iโm staring at Leo Buckleyโs porta-potty.ย
โThe toilet does work,โ he assures me, โbut itโs best left only for emergencies.โ
As far as Iโm concerned, the porta-potty is tantamount to an emergency in its own right, and Iโm relieved when Buckley turns round to show me the shower.
This is actually a hose which pulls out of a tap in the tiny basin behind us. Meanwhile, a plughole is ingeniously uncovered when Buckley lifts the floorboard below. Nonetheless, he confesses that heโs never actually showered on the boat, wisely outsourcing his ablutions to the showers back at college or in nearby gyms.
โDo you find that life on a barge is conducive to work?โ I ask.
โNo,โ Buckley admits. โAlthough it does force me to get out into town, to college, libraries, and the Union, where I usually write my essays.โ
โHow does it compare to life in college overall?โ
Apparently there are advantages and disadvantages.
โThe worst thing is honestly working out where to hang my suits,โ he tells me. โAs you can see, I have very limited options.โ He pulls out a coat hanger bearing at least a dozen ties and holds it up for me.
Another concern was whether heโd be able to stand up in the boat. At the height of 6โ4, Buckley wondered if heโd end up with a bad back, but tells me he was pleasantly surprised to find he could stand up fully.


โDo you ever wish you were living back on land?โ
He shakes his head. โNot at all. While I donโt spend too much time on the boat, itโs infinitely better than college and personally I think youโre doing Oxford badly if you spend too much time at home. Iโve also become surprisingly self-sufficient and I finally have the chance to live out my true Brideshead fantasy.โ
I take a deep breath. The view across to Christ Church Meadows is certainly beautiful on a clear day, but barge life would never be for me.
Still, Buckley canโt recommend it highly enough. โI can sleep and I can host, and thatโs all I need. Iโm a happy man.โ
As he shows me out, he invites me to โBarftersโ, the slightly dubious name of his famous boat after parties. Iโm personally immensely thankful to be back on terra firma, and think Iโve spent quite enough time onboard Buckleyโs boat for one day, but as to whether or not Iโll return for โBarftersโ, weโll have to see.