Perhaps many of you have had this experience already, but I was really looking forward to it. We spent Friday night in the guest room of St. Swithin's quad of Magdalen College. The reason for our visit was the 70th birthday party of Bob, who had been the best man at out wedding some 41 years ago.

Philip, my husband, spent six years studying in Oxford, but only two of those were on campus, as it were, although I am sure he would not use such an American term.

He showed me the window of his first small room on the second floor in the Cloister quad. Apparently, it didn’t even have a sink, and he had to go downstairs, and outside to the next block to use the toilet or have a bath or get drinking water. And even then, it only had cold water. If you wanted a hot bath, you had to go way across to the bathing area beyond the main kitchen.

His second year there, he stayed in the New Building, built in 1733, but he had a suite of rooms at that time (costing him £3 a week for bed, breakfast and Sunday lunch) - a quite large living study room, and a small adjoining bedroom, and although the toilet and bathrooms were not near, at least they were on the same floor.

I was disappointed when I researched the college, that although it is 500 years old this year, the bit we stayed in was built in the 19th century. I wanted to find out who, amongst the old and famous might have slept in the same room - but now that it was only within the couple hundred of years, I have lost interest.

But it is worth while describing our room all the same. It was small - perhaps 12 feet square, and the double bed more or less filled it. One wall had a huge fireplace, blocked up - but the carved wooden surround went nearly to the 15 foot ceiling. Above the picture rail we had no less than five large plaster medallions with the Magdalen lily carved into them. It seemed a bit much in a room that size.

We had a window of the inside wall, letting in light from the corridor. On either side wall was a large connecting carved wooden door - locked - as they obviously led to other similar sized rooms which were used as offices by various professors.

The stairwell leading up to our room was made of stone - the stairs, and all the supporting structures, with windows each half story.  We were on what was called the number 1 staircase for the quad, and there were two stories above the ground floor, which held some sort of meeting room. Each of the rooms on our floor had a bay window overlooking the Munument tower and we could just see the edge of the famous Magdalen Chapel. The leaded windows were many paned and large. Out in the corridor was the shower, sink and toilet room - with a similar leaded window across the diagonal back wall.

We would have had to share the bathroom with the professors, but luckily they were not around this weekend.

The worst, but no doubt the most authentic part of our stay, was having the bells of the tower toll every 15 minutes all night long, with the full blown bong for each hour. I missed 12 and 1, 3 and 7, but pretty much heard and felt every other beat.

We missed breakfast in the Hall, because we weren’t up in time, but we went to have a peek in later. All the books I have read about platters of roast swan being served could easily be imagined looking into the vast hall, with rows of tables lengthwise for the students, and table across the top for the Fellows. Here the ceiling is at least 50 feet high, as it was in the Old Kitchen, (with holes in the top for letting out the smoke and steam) where we sat for awhile to rest my weary feet after we had done the deer park and the fellow’s garden. The trip was punctuated with stories from Philip about what went on in the punts which were usually parked on the banks of the Isis, vibrating with activity. But the most interesting thing in the Old Kitchen was the spit - no doubt used to roast the swans and boars and what not - which was at least 8 feet long, with a very strong and efficient handle at each end. The fireplace was about six feet deep.

The party for Bob was held in a modernised room close to the Great Tower. Bob told us a fairly recent story about how he had climbed to the top of the it, and having locked himself in, had taken the key up with him. A friend called up to him to throw the key down, so he could come up too. Bob obliged and the key split on the pavement below - having avoided the 90% grass covered area. But eventually another key was found and he managed to get out.

Philip pointed out the lamppost on the High Street, which matched a ladder on the opposite side of the wall, no longer there, meant for expediting the leaving of females after the 10 o’clock kick out time, and also the return of those men who had stayed out beyond midnight when the porter’s lodge, the only official way into the college, was locked. The wall is a good 12 feet high, with a railing on top to discourage people climbing over it, but Philip said it really helped, as it gave something to reach for once the decorations on the lamp post, which made adequate foot holds for the start of the trip, were used up.

So, an interesting weekend, but not necessarily one I feel the need to repeat.