Writing Heaven

The walls of Balliol College Oxford are too thick for wi-fi,* they tried it and it didn’t work. How do I know? I got it first hand from the porter.

Before Christmas, I went to Oxford with my friend, writer Wendy Robertson, for four days of writing. We stayed in rooms in Balliol which fronts onto Broad Street, and sits right in the heart of the city, only minutes from the Sheldonian and the Bodleian.

Being free from everything domestic so close to Christmas felt dangerous and delicious. It worked!  We wrote whenever we pleased, did whatever we pleased. We had four days of glorious blue sky, intense winter light, immaculate lawns and breath- taking architecture. We explored the city’s lanes and cobbled streets, its ancient gates and doorways:  glimpses into hidden worlds. Breathed in the immaculate gardens on our doorstep: tree ferns flourishing in sheltered corners and cyclamen flowering on the lawns under the beech. And at the end of the day we had impromptu readings, as well as on one occasion, a glass of champagne in The Randolph!

It was all fun. I even did a spot of Christmas shopping in Blackwells. But we came to write and write we did. For what more does a writer need than a room of her own, a desk and chair and of course her best writing buddy with her – someone as obsessed as she is, who wants to talk writing into the night over a bottle (or two) of red and a plate of cheese and biscuits? (There’s a handy Sainsburys only minutes away.) You could say it was heaven and you’d be right.

* If you want to hook up to the internet you can borrow a cable from the porter for a £5.00 deposit – there is a connection in every room. As it turned out I enjoyed being internet free.