Everything from neuroscience to a teddy bears' picnic!

Alexei Sayle struggled out of his denim jacket, grinned and regarded the audience. "You should all be outside playing football, you swots," he announced.

How true. Silently I cheered Alexei: make hay while the sun shines, not books. Yet several thousand people ignored the balmy air and sunshine, crowding into the fourth Oxford Literary Festival this weekend.

Who would do such a thing, and why? Given British weather, they may have just missed summer in its one-day entirety. I peered anxiously at the audience, looking for further signs of imbalance. My paranoia, luckily, led to the answer: from lecture to lecture, the faces all differed - though almost every one bore a smile. I hadn't stumbled on some strange tribe of shadow-dwelling book fanatics, here was a cross-section of Oxford, dipping in, savouring a favourite author and then scarpering off to enjoy the golden weather.

And it was, indeed, a cross-section. The blue-rinse brigade chuckled at Michael Palin's theatrics, while Alexei drew in Hawaiian shirts and biker regalia. Small children swarmed over picture-book author Nick Sharatt and a pashmina-bedecked bohemian cooed throughout Louis de Bernieres poetic recitation. The melting-pot effect was carefully designed by festival directors Sally Dunsmore and Angela Prysor-Jones. "We're too small to have a theme, so we try to have something for everyone," Angela explains. "Hopefully, people come because they like a particular author and that opens a door. Perhaps they'll stay and see someone new.

"We're not elitist or at all academic, though, since the University does open lectures so well."

This year's offerings included Irish songs, neuroscience, chocolate recipes, religious philosophy, gardening, a teddy bears picnic and the inevitable reminiscences of Morse author Colin Dexter, to name just a few.

My highlights included:

Michael Palin's Hemingway Adventure

Britain's favourite globe-trotter - and sincerely nice guy - is a native son of sorts. Palin, a former history student of Brasenose College, employed his research skills tracking Ernest Hemingway.

"He was a complicated character," Michael admitted. "Hemingway won the Nobel Prize, had a thirst life (a thirst for everything, really), loved cats, shot anything else that moved, was incredibly macho, encouraged women to call him Papa ... He was perhaps the greatest American writer of the 20th century, but only spent 11 years of his working life in that country.

"Discovering his work was one of my adolescent cultural milestones, like hearing Elvis Presley sing Heartbreak Hotel. It changed my life." The former Python was most impressed, however, by Ernie's incorrigible wanderlust: "Hemingway conveys a sense of place and essence in the best way. He makes me want to go there."

Michael did just that, following Papa's footsteps to Paris, Cuba, Africa, even Ketchum, Idaho, where Hemingway took a shotgun to his own head on July 2, 1961.

Palin, still dapper and flourishing at 56, has no such dramatic finales in mind. Rather he plans to stick with travel programmes, which afford more control than films, and write a novel this year.

Alexei Sayle - Barcelona Plates

The comedian was last spotted in Oxfordshire stumping angrily across hills in ball and chain, protesting restricted access to our green and pleasant lands. The bald Scouser was considerably less belligerent as he read two stories from his first collection, Barcelona Plates. He did manage a few jabs at the ivory tower and the Oxford Union, where the festival was held. "Being in this great debating chamber," he sighed melodramatically. "I can't tell you how little it means to me."

Alexei's tale, You're Only Middle-Aged Once, also contains a character who was "up at Oxford at the same time as Mel and Angus and Rowan" and derides his sense of entitlement.

Yet his anti-Oxbridge rhetoric is dampened and he appeared calm, almost philosophical. "I like Oxford apart from the students ... I don't even hate them any more," he added in a somewhat surprised tone.

"I do have a story set in Banbury, where I spent a lot of time. If you like fighting on a Saturday night, it's great."

Susan Greenfield - The Brain and the Future

Oxford's own professor of Pharmacology, Susan Greenfield, CBE, may just lure a generation into neuroscience. She makes it look so easy, so fun, so glamorous - not to mention vastly important.

"No matter how much you go to the gym or jog, your body will bag and sag and get flabby. Marvellously, your brain gets better with age," she said.

"The mind is a dynamic thing, giving you a secret, marvellous sense of self." Experiences - not genes alone - mould our mental circuitry and identities.

Here lies Professor Greenfield's worries: will drugs and information technology detract from this development? "Call me a gloom merchant," she joked. "But if we dramatically change our environments, we need to think about the effects. "The threat lies in a scientifically illiterate society making the wrong choices."

Louis de Bernieres and Craig Ogden -

Greece in Words and Music

The author of Captain Corelli's Mandolin admitted this performance was a spot of self-indulgence, but none could fault such a superb evening. Louis de BerniM- res, usually retiring and publicity-shy, delivered Greek poems with gusto.

He was accompanied by Chipping Norton's Craig Ogden on guitar, playing ornate twists of melody.

The writer explained why the genre is so seductive: "In Greece, serious composers take inspiration from folk music and collaborate with the best poets to write pop songs.

"Sadly this is dying down, but in time it will re-emerge."

Nick Sharratt - Buzz, Buzz, Bumble Jelly

Childish antics filled the Oxford Union Debating Chamber once again - but this time it was justifiably four- and five-year-olds, not food fights and Blonde Ambition.

About 50 little ones flocked around author Nick Sharratt, as the 37-year-old displayed his flip books. Though child-less, his gentle tolerance, empathy and enthusiasm were remarkable.

"I decided when I was nine to be an illustrator. Perhaps I'm boring and predictable, but I did just that. I guess I'm single-minded," he laughed.

"Writing for children lets you make the most of your imagination. Or maybe I just haven't grown-up properly." The Brighton author's next book, Spells and Smells, will be published by Oxford-based David Fielding next October, whileBuzz, Buzz, Bumble Jelly has just hit the shelves.

Colin Dexter - The Remorseful Day

The Inspector Morse author bid a fond farewell to Oxford's greatest detective, who succumbs to years of drinking and inertia. Endeavour will take a little piece of his creator with him, however.

"Unless you're a genius, - as I'm obviously not - your writing tends to be semi-autobiographical. Morse is slightly to the left in politics, has awful personal qualities, is pessimistic about the state of the universe, sensitive to poets, vulnerable to women - usually the wrong ones. That's all me, except being mean about money," he said. After 14 novels and 81 murders, it was time to stop. "I have said enough about the relationship between Morse and Lewis. The only sadness is the misunderstanding between them at the end. But it was time to make Oxford safe again."

Karen Armstrong - The Battle for God

This was Karen Armstrong's first time ever at the Union, although years ago she was an undergraduate at Oxford - and a Catholic nun. "I was far too shy and mouse-like to venture in here," she recalled.

Years later she speaks with bold authority, explaining the subject of her latest book, fundamentalism. The religious historian believes such extreme views are spurred by fear of the changing world. "Four hundred years ago our civilizations depended on a surplus of food and trade to fund cultural projects. Now we base our society on technology and industry."

Best of all, the fun's not even over. Although the festival proper ended this weekend, one last event remains on 19 April. Victor Pelvin, hailed as the foremost Russian writer, makes a rare visit to the UK. He will discuss his new novel, Babylon. Ring 01865 798600 for advance tickets (4.50).

Story date: Monday 10 April

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.