ON YOUR FEET THE student from Oxford University had gone first. His style was witty, entertaining and impressive. The delivery faultless. I’m told he was only 19 yet he talked like a pro. Mind you,what else would you expect from the promotions officer of the Oxford Union debating society? We were gathered in a cavernous hotel banqueting room not far from that ancient 'city of dreaming spires’ - the undergraduate with the silver tongue, 120 hard-boiled executives at one of those power breakfasts for networking businessmen, and me, a debut author with a new travelogue just out and more butterflies in my stomach than the Amazonian jungle. I imagined the young tyro to be heading for a doctorate in the commercial use of English. He was there to raise funds for the world’s foremost debating society and to increase membership.Taking a literary tack, he reeled off a list of those from the publishing industry who had argued their case in the chamber: W.H.Auden, Salman Rushdie, Stephen Hawking, Louise Bagshawe, Dennis Potter, Jeffrey Archer Prime Ministers and Presidents had come to call.Bill Clinton,high-priest of the speaking circuit and himself a former Oxford student,was recently a visitor. Wow! By the time the young persuader sat down I could hear the rustle of cheque books all around. "Follow that .." said the chairman, a loquacious solicitor, making my introduction with a wave of his hand and a grin full of devilment. Half-an-hour later and I had survived. I was perspiring generously, my hands still quivered and my voice was a stuttering baritone, but I had survived...