The dreaming spires and steaming shite pyre that is Oxford was the location of my latest training course this morning.
As usual no-one else had turned up so a slimmed down, trimmed down session saw me back in Swindon by 2pm.
This meant I could go with Esther to collect Salvador from pre-school.
We squinted through the classroom window to get a glimpse of him engaged in his intensive studies.
He was every bit the student in waiting with his trendy backpack and slow rocking motion , eyes flicking towards us at the door as the teacher chimed through the daily story.
Given that sort of concentration and attitude maybe he could make it to Oxford too.