Finally solicited for directions

That’s how you know you’re no longer a tourist, when the tourists start asking you the questions.

And there really isn’t any story to it, other than some guy pointing to the library and asking if it was the Bodleian Library. But I sure as hell looked like I knew where I was going, I tell you. I looked informed, like a wandering concierge of Oxford. He must have noticed that I walked right under the Bridge of Sighs, and didn’t even look up, or that I passed the gates of All Souls College without ogling the empty courtyard (“… nobody ever goes in and nobody ever comes out!”… “then who makes all the candy?”).

Oh, the library is closed on Sundays.