All along the western wall, a series of niches gape nicely at you. In each of them, there is an object or a statue. Glancing around, you see:

• A statue of Tyope, smiling benevolently.

• A bust of William Archibald Spooner, set upon a pedestal inscribed with various slogans: "The Lord is a shoving leopard," "We all know what it is to have a half-warmed fish inside us," and "When the boys come back from France, we'll have the hags flung out."

• A lady with a penchant for green - absentmindedly singing to herself little phrases such as "'scuse me while i kiss this guy!" and "i'm not tawking bout the linen".

• A couple of proud-looking Celtic bards with slightly foolish smiles are depicted in deep concentration. One of them is pouring the contents of a goblet into another, the other man is busy inserting a cigar into a pipe.

• A hyooge leather suitcase, battered and weahter-beaten, occasionally letting out great snarks or boojums.

• A magnificent octopus, looking marvellously out of place.

After paying your respects, you can go ahugnwards, or to the coturyard.