Matriculation; and Balliol in photos, sort of

Well, I've matriculated. It involved getting up at seven thirty in the morning, stumbling bleary-eyed through Oxford at the crack of dawn and best of all, being photographed mercilessly by the tourists up for the weekend, who clearly couldn't believe their luck at this genuine Oxford tradition (tm). It was wonderful, actually; I didn't mind the sub fusc or the cold walk to the Sheldonian or anything. Again, part of something; it was surreal and amazing to walk down Broad Street in full sub fusc and be shouted at in Latin. I am now a part of the university as well as Balliol.

Anyway, the pictures! I'm far too tired to do anything to these beyond upload them, so no cropping no matter how sensible that would be.

Firstly, I give you me in full sub fusc. The outfit in full consists of a white shirt, black skirt, black tights and black commoners' gown. The black ribbon goes around your neck and no-one has any idea how it's supposed to be tied. The men wear a white bow tie instead of the ribbon. ( Read more... )

There is also a black mortar board that you never, ever wear unless you want to be at least fined and at most sent down. It is not for the likes of undergraduates such as us. It gets carried and nothing more. And you keep your pens in it come exam time.

Next, looking out from the hall into the garden quad. A mess of penguin colours. ( Read more... )

They were doing the collgeges in batches, so we queued up on New College Lane, beneath the Bridge of Sighs. From left: me, Claire, Patricia and Liya. ( Read more... )

And outside the Sheldonian we queued some more: ( Read more... )

But it was worth it in the end. ( loads more pics )

( And even more pics )

People here are crazy, I tell you.

Okay, bedtime.