IWHistory (3)

Philosophic: "What happened with your first degree? I think we should be told."

Not much to tell, really. After working hard at school, and enjoying it, I was accepted by St Catherine's College, Oxford, to read chemistry. I felt very pleased with myself until I discovered I was completely out of my depth - everyone was much cleverer than I and had got there without doing a stroke, or so they said. On top of that the chemistry course was a drag and most of the people I met were sneering loud-mouthed private school prats. Horrid they were. (I suppose it's quite sensible, in theory, to build places like Eton and Oxford to try to keep nauseating turds like this all in one place, but they really should warn the rest of us.) I seriously considered throwing it all in, but just in time met a group of what seemed like fairly normal people - the university bellringers. These fine fellows introduced me to 24/7 (as they say nowadays) boozing and curries. And a bit of bellringing. I never looked back.

In those days there were exams at the end of the first and third years. Having scraped through the first of these I resolved to spend the second year doing the least amount of work possible. When it came to starting revision for finals I tried looking at a few books, realized it was far too late, and so spent the third year in the same way as the second. I can't remember why I decided to turn up for finals, but it's a good job I did, because I ended up with a 2nd/3rd borderline degree. I guess Oxford chemistry teaching must have been better than I had recognized.