Oxford, a seasoned city of culture and erudite beauty, is peppered with dreaming spires and archaic edifices. In keeping with the city's understated beauty and elegance is The Macdonald Randolph Hotel, or more simply, The Randolph.

Having attended university at Oxford, there was never quite a good enough reason to obliterate my bank account (and the possibility of any future loan-related banter with the HSBC) on a night's stay in The Randolph. However, my parents were kind-hearted people who cared to visit me ever so often, and given their peculiar penchant for all things antediluvian and historic, would choose hotels such as The Randolph as their temporary domicile. And so I quite happily shared in their indulgence, and familiarised myself with The Randolph.

- 2 deluxe suites
- 1 presidential suite
- 7 junior suites
- 60 executive suites
- 2 four-poster suites

Let us not forget the restaurant in our giddy exploration of the ludicrously sumptuous accommodation. According to its website, the restaurant at The Randolph has recently won its second AA rosette for its cuisine. Though unclear about what exactly an 'AA rosette' is, I will certainly not hesitate to commend the restaurant for its thoughtfully prepared menus (venerable English cuisine with a refreshing contemporary flavour) and unrivalled dining experience. Of course, no restaurant is complete without an accompanying bar. The Morse Bar at The Randolph proffers an irenic environment in which to quietly sip a glass of finest Pinot Noir, as well as, of course, the Pinot Noir itself and an excellent and comprehensive selection of other beverages.

Celebration Tea - comprising a glass of house Champagne (note, not cava), lovingly handmade scones, preserves (because 'jam' is way too proletarian for The Randolph), clotted cream, selection of sandwiches and cakes, served with one's choice of 'leaf tea'. At £22.70 per person I sadly shook my head, whilst invidiously narrowing my gaze at a rather more improvident friend who bashfully said yes.

Cream Tea - comprising scones, preserves, and clotted team, served with tea or coffee. At £9.25 per person, I decided to forfeit that pot of Benefit lip gloss and get fat on Randolphinian desserts instead. And I was not disappointed. The scones were light and breezy (and delicious) to the point of nonchalance, the jam was thick and substantive, and the coffee was freshly brewed in front of me using bafflingly sophisticated machinery by an ever-so-polite softly spoken waitress.

Finally, sleeping and dining quarters aside, The Randolph also serves as a venue for academic and professional functions. In the midst of Milkround madness, I attended many recruitment presentation evenings in one grandiose room or another in the hotel, for various corporate machines. Though the speeches were often vapid, and the companies dull, The Randolph never ceased to surprise and enchant me.