I got a good night of sleep — almost seven hours — and ran a good time in my morning miles. Coffee, fruit, shower, dress (too fancy, because I wasn’t going back home before heading to Oxford), sweltered on my walk to (and opening up of) church, Morning Prayer, then caught the X3 to Oxford. The bus ride wasn’t too bad; the air wasn’t deadly still, and the bus made steady progress. Coffee at Love Coffee before looking in at Oriel, where I stayed for the rest of the morning because…
For the past ten days or two weeks, the Theology General Administrator’s office has been sending emails alerting theology staff and students that the new Schwartzman Humanities Centre would be closed to
all students, staff, and the general public
fro 9:00 yesterday evening to 2:00 this afternoon — without any explanation of why, but acknowledging that it involves security sweeps of the bulding. Ooooh… ? (Why is there no diacritical mark for modulating pitch to indicate a spooky secret? The three-quaver emotion is the closest I can think of, and it could just indicate ‘singing’, which in this case isn’t really the point.))
But those of us in the ambit of Oriel College have known, because we’ve been getting emails about an impending appearance of The Visitor. Yes, it sounds like a mysterious superhero, but in this case it refers to the British legal phenomenon of someone like the Chair of the Board of Trustees who exercises nominal charge over interpretations of the by-laws, appointments, committee memberships, and all that vitally important business. When The Visitor visits, it’s always a significant occasion, especially when The Visitor is, as in Oriel’s case, His Majesty the King.
So, being a good and faithful servant of the college, and supposing this to be likely the only time I’d be invited to such an event, I overdressed for the heat (underdressed slightly for the occasion, but even I have limits) and spent the late morning and early afternoon standing in direct sunlight to await the arrival of Charles the Third, by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of his other Realms and Territories, King, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith — and most importantly, Visitor of Oriel College.
He entered the college, walked comfortably (given the heat) to the chapel, where our estimable Head of Theology and our exceptional Chaplain, and a good number of our undergraduate and postgraduate theologians, had the opportunity to converse with the monarch out of the sun (the Chapel remains admirably cooler than the outside world). After a while, all of us still standing outside in the sun, His Majesty emerged and walked to the adjacent Hall, where a grand painting of his mother the late Queen hangs; then after a shorter delay (presumably cos he was not talking to our impressive young theologians) he came to the portico over which his name is prominently displayed in stone letters. The Provost, Lord Mendoza, gave a very short welcome, then the King did what is incumbent on royals: he wandered along the periphery of the crowd, and shook hands with roughly half of the attendees. This included one elder priest-theologian:

After the King shook my hand, he was made his way to the gate (they opened the full huge wooden gate for him, so there was no risk of his stumbling as he stepped through the door-in-a-gate exit we usually use, not that I know anyone who has ever tripped on that doorway). Oriel served us all a splendid lunch on Second Quad (I can’t say enough positive about the way Oriel attends to the special dietary needs of… well, of me and I assume other odd ducks), and after conversing for an hour and a half, I realised that my Eustachian tubes were in armed rebellion, the ambient noise added to the autophony from my own ears, and the effort I was exerting to handle gracefully my circumstantial deafness and social exhaustion, meant that I had long passed the limit of my neurodiverse capacities. I excused myself, caught the X2 to Abingdon, went straight to the shower, and have been (in the vernacular) vegging out for the rest of the day.