Lifestyle

During these cold winter months, in which – thanks to that pinnacle of British construction, breathable walls – I wake up in a freezing room, I find great solace in hiding beneath my blanket.

My best memories of gallivanting around Europe were of parks. They were found in the tranquility of self-reflection as I enjoyed the serenity of nature, clutching my too-expensive coffee and watching the ducks swim about in the river as the cold winter wind whipped the fallen leaves off the ground beside me.

On being accepted into Oxford, everyone warned me about the reading lists. “You’ll be reading eight hours a day,” they said. At the time, it sounded almost romantic.

It's Thursday night in New College's Long Room, and several dozen students are desperately trying to master The Plough Speed, which, for the uninitiated, is a mind boggling routine of side-steps, spins and shuffles.