Years ago, when I was 16, I tried for Pembroke College in Oxford. My mum and Dad wanted me to be an ‘Oxford man’, especially my mum. My rich godfather sponsored me (as well as a building at the Radcliffe). All to no avail.

Apparently my written essays were good, but three august bodies interviewed me with a focus on chemistry. A mistake on their part since I didn’t know much in that department, and declined to let me in.

 I often wonder where life would have gone if I had been here. Very different I expect.

 So I wandered into the entrance with a view to having a look inside for old-times’ sake and was halted by the porter at the gate. Who told me it wasn’t open to the public, sorry sir.

 And so I didn’t get in today either.