The gate to the Fellows Garden.
I'm not a member of the college, obviously, but I do get to pretend for three weeks, and I confess that I get a thrill whenever I walk through this gate.
When I walked out of Hall after dinner a few nights ago, a group of tourists were standing in Merton Street peering through the gates by the Porter's Lodge. I tried very hard to look as though I belonged here, and since it was a formal night and I was wearing a dress and stockings, maybe I even succeeded.
Of course, I'm here to take a class and I'm really enjoying that as well. We meet every weekday from 9 to 12:30, with a tea and biscuit break at 10:30. We're studying the Victorian ghost story, and have been having some lively discussions about the difference between terror and horror, the reasons for the (very strange to an American) tradition of telling ghost stories at Christmas, and today, do vampire stories really count as ghost stories?
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