I’m not sure if this is a good claim to fame, but I think I may be the only person who has ever moved to Oxford, and become less snobbish! I realised this the other day when I was accosted by one of those clipboard wielding survey takers whilst wandering through town.

‘Excuse me, do you live here?’ she asked with a slightly desperate look. It is rare to hear anyone speak English in the town during summer, let alone find a local mad enough to brave the tourist crush.

As I nodded my head, she asked ‘What do you think is the best thing about living in Oxford?’ Without hesitation I replied ‘The public transport!’ Considering we live in one of the most beautiful cities in the country, I know it’s a slightly strange thing to highlight, but as someone who used to prefer to pay for a taxi, or God forbid walk rather than take public transport, Oxford really has changed my views.

Nowhere else have I heard people say “take the bus it’s quicker” or “it’s cheaper” so often. Admittedly the price of parking and petrol could have something to do with that.

But I’ve travelled quite a bit, and there genuinely aren’t too many places in the world you can sit on the bus using the free wi-fi to email in an urgent piece of work, or say, a column you’d nearly forgotten to write.

The other thing I’ve found about Oxford’s public transport is that ‘normal’ people seem to use it.

You can’t imagine the joy of getting onto a bus for the first time in years to find not only do the people on it seem to shower daily and wash their clothes, but they also don’t stink of beer!

Admittedly my views on those who use public transport may be a little clouded by living in both Swindon and Peterborough for a few years, but as they say what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.

Mind you, it is with great fondness I recall the evening I was travelling to Peterborough by train when the chattiest man in the world sat down across from me. Unusually for 10.30pm he was sober, so I didn’t mind talking to him, or the fact he’d chosen to sit across from me when the whole carriage was empty.

That was until he dropped this clanger, “I just got out of jail today”. Not up on jail etiquette I didn’t like to ask what or how long he’d been in jail for, so I spent the next 45 minutes trying to guess by the age of his clothes.

By the end of the trip I’d assured myself his funky new retro trainers meant he hadn’t been in jail all that long, meaning it couldn’t have been anything too serious.

Unfortunately my moment of calm was destroyed moments later by my other half who pointed out his trainers may actually have been from the 80s, thus putting him spot-on for something like murder.