As I mentioned earlier, I had a misspent youth in England. Although the prospect of voluntarily signing up for years of institutional British food was initially horrifying, I thoroughly enjoyed my time in the town of Bovine Crossing.
There is the something to be said about drinking where J. R. R. Tokien had his cups. Looking at the misty Isis before early morning rowing practice, you could pretty much accept the existence of Middle Earth as fact. The industrial kitchens of some of the colleges looked like Gormenghast. And, it amuses me to no end that that I went to graduate school at Hogwarts.
