One year anniversary

The weather has perked up, the sun is out, and so what better than to take a walk along the river for a drink at the Perch Inn on Port Meadow. Besides I am celebrating. For I am delighted to say that this weekend marks the one-year anniversary of The Oxford Sausage.  52 Sunday sausages – which I’d go so far as to say makes for a decent string of the things. So finding myself once more at the beginning of July, it seems a good time to reflect on last year’s adventures and look forward to the possibilities for the next.

I set out to discover more about Oxford and the people who live here, and that I feel I have achieved. But as Aristotle rightly said, ‘The more you know, the more you realise you don’t know.’ I now recognise it will be impossible to exhaust the supply of buildings to visit, towers to climb, and meadows to explore in the city. For I never fail to uncover something surprising at every weekly wandering; who’d have thought the Thai restaurant I often frequent is the very same building that in the 17^th century saw the miraculous recovery of a woman hanged the day before and presumed dead. Or an overgrown spot in south Oxford alongside the railway bridge was once the site of a house made almost entirely from paper that survived for over 150 years. Or the tiny memorial plaque in the University Church of St Mary the Virgin marks one of the great Tudor mysteries surrounding the death of Amy Robsart, wife to Elizabeth 1’s favourite courtier Robert Dudley who many accuse of foul play. The city is crammed full of ghosts, eager to tell their stories.

But it is equally jam-packed with extraordinary characters who are still very much alive and kicking.  Men and women who continue to make this such an extraordinary place in which to live. During the past year I have talked to market traders and model makers, butchers and bellringers, showmen and shopkeepers, conservationists and campaigners, nuns and nurserymen, vicars and vintners. I have climbed the tower of the University Museum of Natural History in the company of the ‘Keeper of the Swifts’ who has recorded the nesting habits of these tiny birds for over 30 years as part of the longest running survey of a single species in the world.  And walked along the banks of the river Cherwell to find the bathing area I remember from my childhood but could never locate until a local cultural historian showed me the way. I have been truly humbled by the patience of so many experts in their fields and the generosity with which they give their time.

It’s not always been easy. There’s a responsibility when writing this kind of stuff, a desire to do justice to the story with which you have been entrusted. And although I positively delight in the prospect of the outing and the chat, writing has never come easily. In truth sometimes the words emerge painstakingly slowly. But the project has taught me to enjoy the process of weekly scribbling and although not always as I would have liked somehow it always gets done. And hopefully with the regular practice I will improve.

It’s also been a real pleasure to discover how many of you have joined me on along the way. You have been delightful companions and a continuing inspiration and source of new enquiry. I’ve even led my very first walking tour for Oxford Sausage readers, something I never imagined at the outset.

So onwards. Next week I am visiting one of Oxford’s ancient flood meadows, in memory of my very first blog this time last year and under the same tutelage. And after that I am taking a break to bake some cakes, tend to my allotment, and pot up its produce. I may even enjoy a short holiday. During this time I am taking the opportunity to look back at some of my favourite posts that you have maybe missed from the past year. But come September I will back on the beat, alongside contributing photographer John Milnes, seeking out new stories. There is so much to discover in this old city of ours and so many people for us to meet. I can’t wait.