In memory, Oxford is always bathed in the golden light of youth and love and learning and endless possibility. We we did get one such golden day in Oxford, where we showed the boys around our old college and the chapel where we got married; they were entirely unimpressed with Mom and Dad’s nostalgia tour. They were much more keen when we took them punting on the river and treated them to ice-cream at one of our old student haunts. When the next day proved damp and dreary (there were lots of student days like that too; we just remember them less), the Natural History and Pitt Rivers museums, a kids’ matinee at the Oxford Playhouse, and an afternoon lost in the book stacks at Blackwell’s provided ample entertainment.