I found myself sitting in ‘Oxford’s Oldest Coffee Shop’ clasping a mug of strong coffee closely. The rather nasal voice of a flustered young student, about 20, resonated between my ears as she elaborated on the lack of reading she had done for a certain course to two companions. They nodded intermittently, blank looks on their faces. The caffeine’s effect slowly began to awaken my slumbering brain, the girl’s metal chair legs grated against the floor, she leapt up and hastily shouldered her way though the glass doors, half a dozen books balanced against her chest. “Whether I’ll actually be at the lecture later remains to be seeeen…” Monday morning in Oxford. (Read on …)