There is something liberating about being somewhere where nobody knows your name, your college, or your subject. While abroad, I am no longer simply an Oxford student navigating the same routines of term-time life; I am an outsider, and, most importantly, a beginner again. The world suddenly feels much bigger than the few square miles I had grown accustomed to calling home.
Oxford students hate C*mbridge. Or at least, we’re supposed to. We call them Tabs, occasionally ‘shoe’ them, and inherit a rivalry as soon as we matriculate. There’s only one problem: most of the time, nobody seems particularly bothered.
On a Tuesday afternoon on Bromley High Street, in London’s most south-eastern borough, It doesn’t come as a surprise to witness many of the homeless...
As occurs every year around results day, stories are run about students choosing lower-ranked universities over Oxbridge. This year, one student made Guardian headlines by deciding to attend Leeds instead of Oxford. Was it the correct choice?