Andrew Robinson, the prolific writer and journalist, has written twenty-five books, in fields as diverse as the history of science, Indian culture, and archaeology. In his most recent release, Einstein on the Run, Robinson turns his attention to Albert Einstein and his long-running relationship with Britain. The writer visited Oxford's History of Science Museum, home of the physicist's famous blackboard, to give us a flavour of his new work. It was a full house in the museum's low-lit, vaulted basement, its cabinets and obscure instruments (galvanometer anyone?) lending the venue an elegant, academic air.

Robinson’s angle is a relatively novel one. People know Einstein, the author suggests, for his German roots, for his formative years in Switzerland, for his work in the US (where he spent the latter two decades of his life) and for his spiritual connection to Israel, now home to 30,000 of the Nobel Prize winner's archived papers. But an aspect rarely covered in the scholarship is Einstein’s links to the UK, which were not insignificant. Britain was where the physicist’s work gained significant traction and attention amongst the lay public. Einstein's support in the UK grew as his popularity in Germany dwindled – much of the opprobrium was purely on scientific grounds, but Einstein was also the victim of antisemitism. Later, Britain granted the scientist refuge in the 1930s when his life was under threat from Nazi extremists.

The lecture played out like a who's who of interwar science and politics, with Robinson pointing out famous faces from sepia line-ups displayed on a Powerpoint: scientific conferences attended by Frederick Lindemann and Marie Curie, political tête-à-têtes with Winston Churchill, an Oxford Union debate photo complete with a baby-faced Michael Foot. There were sketches too, from celebrated cartoonists such as David Low and Herblock, illustrating how Einstein captured the popular imagination. Robinson is not the most animated of figures, perhaps a little too engrossed in his source material and innocently expecting more expertise from his audience. Nevertheless, his passion is clear to see, and the lack of technical language made the talk (and presumably also the book) accessible to those like myself, with little-to-no scientific knowledge.

The author's forte is in how he creates a very human picture of Einstein, as a man with a twinkling sense of humour. The physicist was tickled by the Dean of Christchurch falling asleep during one of his lectures, and there was an amusing episode in which a young William Golding comes across Einstein on a bridge in Magdalen College Deer Park, neither able to communicate with the other but both battling on in rudimentary sign language. Perhaps the most surreal moment was when Einstein fled Belgium to seek refuge in Britain and was provided with holiday hut near Cromer in Norfolk. Here he spent his days reading and wandering across the fields to buy sweets at the local Post Office, where the staff were understandably bewildered by this eccentric European.

Robinson's talk was a rich tapestry, weaving Einstein's darker times together with flashes of lightness. A committed pacifist, the physicist hated dinner jackets and formal attire for its similarity to military uniform. He would go on to renounce his German citizenship and see out his days in the United States, but he never forgot the warm welcome and kindness he received in Britain. For Einstein was not just on the run from the Nazi regime but also from unsolicited social contact: “Why is it that everybody likes me but nobody understands me?”, he once noted rather sadly. Perhaps it was in Britain, in the wilds of East Anglia, that Einstein discovered a modicum of peace and comfort in which he could work unimpeded.