Sunday 20 March 2011: Nun on the run
Oxford is one of those places that are exactly like you imagine they'll be. Lots of old buildings and young people. And a Wagamama.
Burp.
The trip down would have been fine were it not for the homeward bound 25-strong stag party. They were only on my train for 90 minutes but managed to work their way through four rounds of Stella and offend just about everyone on the planet.
Thankfully they disembarked in Doncaster, after which I got chatting to a nice chap from Brighton who cooks the best Breakfast in Brighton (officially). He used to be a bookseller and I've just discovered he shares a surname with my grandfather, who was also a bookseller. So now I need to go and try and find a way to tell him...
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