We came, we saw, we Cambridged!

I went here!!!

And so on to the next part of Dr H's Reminiscence Tour 2024 - the part where the Dr of the H was born.  Cambridge is a bit of a weird place, tbh.  I was here from 1993-1996 (as part of the University when I was doing my PhD) so clearly it was a few years ago and I had no idea how much I would remember.  I was, of course, pretty confident I'd remember Downing College, as well as the Department of Pharmacology and Lensfield Road, which is where I spent the bulk of my time, but the rest of it? Not so sure.

We were lucky when we'd arrived yesterday as we'd managed to find a parking space directly outside the Hotel Du Vin.  I was able to extend our parking until 10.30am (6 GBP for 2hrs - yikes!!) before having to move the car, so we had time for a nice leisurely breakfast. It was average - the yolks of ManpanionTM's egg benny were hard (a cardinal sin in my books!) and I had to request baked beans for my full English (!) but the little fly I found baked into my fried egg was a definite lowlight.  Bleeurrgghh.  

Not what you want to see towards the end 
of your meal....

Though I did appreciate their toaster had
a specific BUN mode!  I felt really quite special...

Busking, Cambridge style...

Anyway, as we weren't able to check in to Downing College until 2pm, we took a short drive into the city center and parked up in the main car park next to the big shopping mall.  Nothing looked familiar.  From there is was a short walk to the market square (OK- vaguely remember this) and past Rose Crescent (where I rented a room for a short period of time before moving into Downing College). We didn't have anything specific booked for the day and the weather was a bit cooler, but still nice enough to amble around, so we spent a couple of hours wandering around, enjoying the sights.  Of course, we had to visit Kings College and because I had picked up my Cambridge alumni card the day before, we were able to access the public areas of any college free of charge (academic douche pass - yey!).  As part of our visit, we went into Kings College Chapel which was still as impressive as I remember - but I didn't know until later that day that it's actually the largest private chapel in the world.  It was founded by Henry VI in 1512 and took 30yrs to build - obviously there is a TON of history here, and there was an interesting exhibition in the chapel that went over the main highlights of its founding.  As well as being the largest private chapel in the world, it also has the largest fan vault ceiling in the world - a breathtaking accomplishment then and still amazingly impressive today.

This was "new" - am sure this was  
where the University clothiers used to be

Loopy - remember this place?!

ManpanionTM getting all excited by King's College

The engineering nerd in him also geeked
out over the vaulted ceiling

Punts ahoy!

After we'd oo-ed and ah-ed sufficiently, we made our way out and through the back gardens, towards the river.  As the sun was still shining, we decided to do the Touristy Thing and take a punt tour along the Backs.  ManpanionTM had not done one before, so we found a tour that was leaving in 15 mins and sat and waited by the river banks for it to start.  We were the first to board the punt and I made the classic schoolboy error of choosing the seats at the back, closest to where our punter would "drive" the boat.  I had clearly forgotten that those seats - while appearing desirable on the surface - are actually the worst seats in the boat as they are in the prime Drip Zone where you get sprinkled regularly with big globs of cold River Cam water, as the punter pulls his pole in and out (steady) of the water behind and above you.  Ah well - it added to the immersive nature of the experience, I guess!!

Chillin' in the glorious sunshine

The boat trip lasted about 45 mins and took you past 7 different colleges.  Our tour guide was a bit of a grumpy git (former English teacher who "hates" Harry Potter) but did share some knowledge about the provenance of this building and that building as we floated past.  It really is gorgeous and the range of architecture is a historian's wet dream -in one stretch of river, you have buildings from 4 distinct periods butting up all against each other - Brutalism, 16th century, 18th Century and 20th Century, all smushed up and jumbled together.  He didn't regale us with some of the classic fake stories we used to hear punt guides tell tourists ("this 'ere Kings College is founded on the site of an old pie factory in the 1800s) but it was a very enjoyable way to spend an hour.

The Mathematical bridge

Classic picture postcard view of the back
of Kings College

The Bridge of Sighs - supposedly
named after the fact it leads to the 
examination halls

Cambridge is not short on bricks, that's 
for sure

Smiling through the impromptu
punt juice shower!

Fancy fish finger sandwich.  
Jolly tasty!

After the tour, it was time for lunch, so we repaired to The Anchor, which was right by the river and apparently an old favorite haunt of Pink Floyd.  ManpanionTM had a Croque Monsieur (training for Paris) and I had a fish finger sandwich!  Yes - really (though they were posh fish fingers, not the Findus variety).  Suitably fed and watered, it was time to head back to the car park, pick up the car and go check into Downing College.  

The main purpose of our visit was to give ManpanionTM the experience of dining at Formal Hall, at the High Table with the Master and Fellows.  I used to go to Formal Hall every Friday evening when I was doing my PhD and it was always a fun time (sherry before dinner, Downing Port afterwards), so I was keen to share this little bit of my personal history.  We were also staying at Downing in one of the guest rooms - I had no idea what to expect (the most I was hoping for was indoor plumbing) but it was actually really nice - a proper little apartment with a decent lounge/study, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. 

The Howard Building at Downing

Formal Hall was 7.15pm for 7.35pm and we were invited to join the Fellows for sherry beforehand in the Senior Combination Room.  I had to ask for directions on how to get there (having only been there a couple of times before as a graduate student).  As a student/member of the University, you need to wear a black gown to Formal Hall (there are slightly different versions, depending on your academic status) and as mine had gone the way of the dodo many many years ago, I had rented one for the night from Ryder and Amies, one of the traditional University clothiers that had been there since time immemorial.  I was glad that I did because it would have felt very weird to have been at Formal Hall without one - I had enough residual memory of my previous dining experiences, I guess!  ManpanionTM wore a suit - but did get sent back to put a tie on, so the sartorial standards are still being strictly enforced by the dining hall staff!  

This fancy sign was new

And the Porters Lodge (aka the Plodge) was double
in size!

Krusty is such a rebel.  Honestly.  I 
have no idea where he gets it from
.

ManpanionTM and I at Formal High Table at Downing

Though I didn't expect to know anyone there, amazingly I knew three people - one of whom was a contemporary of mine and in my friend group and who had never left Cambridge and Downing.  He had been there as a student then Fellow then Professor for close to 30yrs.  Up until that point, my imposter syndrome had been giving me a bit of trouble (no matter how smart you are, here there is always someone way, way smarter and more accomplished than you) but in that moment, I felt that my own personal path and the diversity of experiences & challenges I had chosen for myself were more than a match for any Cambridge academic.  Not better (I'm not that self-aggrandizing)- but certainly not inferior in any way.  

Cambridge is still a very hierarchical society, run on traditions and knowing your "place" in the pecking order - from the gong that calls the fellows to dinner (the students are already in the dining hall and have to rise when the fellows enter), to the grace in Latin read by the Master, to the gong and blessing at the end, where all the Fellows file back out again (with the students standing once more).  Back in my day, you were not allowed to get up and leave the hall before the Master and - if you needed the loo during dinner - you had to ask permission to leave the table.  It sounds faintly ridiculous now but I assume the same rules are in place - supplemented by new rules that prohibit the use of your cell phone during dinner (we only found this out after we sneaked one cheeky photo).  The food was about what I remember (passable) and the wine pours were exceedingly generous!  Apparently one of the male stewards (UK name for server) had been there since my time - I didn't recognize him - maybe he had more teeth back then.

After dinner had finished and we had enjoyed a quick port (all part of the ritual) we left the Fellows to their chatter and headed back to our room to pack.  We were off fairly early the next morning, returning the gown, before driving down to London and St Pancras International station, where we were to drop off the car and head to Paris on the Eurostar.  This would then conclude the official Dr H Reminiscence Tour 2024. Its been a really fun few days, full of family and memories (and way too many calories) and I'm very happy I got to share it all with ManpanionTM.  There are, of course, a few more chapters of the story that are still left to be told (Sandwich, Bristol, New York etc) but those, for now, will have to wait.  

Onwards!

Minack, Marconi, mines and mounds!

And, just like that, its already our last full day in Cornwall.  We were up and out early so that we'd have enough time to pack everything in today.  It was fun to stay at the Prison (our room was made out of 3 cells knocked together) - I can only imagine how much it costs to keep that place running (the heating!!) so I hope that it gets significantly busier in the high season than it was when we were there.  In case you are in
terested, here is the link: https://www.bodminjailhotel.com/

TOASTWATCH UPDATE: Floppy white bread toast this morning for breakfast, delivered to us by the Albanian maitre d' chap (who had a very nervous energy vibe - as if he had personally invested his life savings in the place).  It could have benefited from another run through the gerbil toaster wheel, but floppy cold toast does have its own particular charm - but ONLY when it is eaten thickly slathered in butter and marmalade.

After having explored a bit of the North Cornish coast, our remaining plans took us south, in and around the Penzance area.  We only have one day to explore, so I picked some more touristy classics - St Michael's Mount and the Minack Theater.  I hadn't been to either place before,(and I'm way less familiar with the south of Cornwall in general) so it was going to be a new experience for me too.  The very first stop of the day, though, was one of Daniel's recommendations (thanks, Spud!) to Geevor Tin Mine, about an hour and a half's drive away.  We had to navigate some gnarly roadworks en route (at one point, taking a very backroady-type detour to miss some of the traffic, despite a road sign telling us specifically not to "Do Not Believe the GPS") but we got there in the end!

ManpanionTM drives the giant winchy thing

The tin mine was really interesting and well worth a visit.  Because I'd pre-booked timed tickets for the Mount and the Theater and the mine was a last minute addition to our plans, we only had about an hour to look around.  We could easily have spent much longer there.  You can read more about the mine here: https://geevor.com/ but it was a working Cornish tin mine, right on up to 1990 when it was decommissioned due to the worldwide collapse of the price of tin.  One of my favorite places was The Dry, which was where all the miners would change and congregate after a hard day down the mine.  It was really well-done and it didn't take much imagination at all to picture how it would have been 30 odd years ago.  We also walked through the immense panning sheds with dozens of shaking tables where they would separate out the grains of tin and other precious minerals from the waste rock.  In essence, it was the same way the pioneers used to pan for gold in the river beds, but on a huge industrial scale!  Out of every 1000 tons of rock processed, they used to recover only about 5 tons of tin.  

For some reason, ManpanionTM simply
INSISTED on having his photo taken
next to this sign...

... and mine next to this one.
Hmmm...

Krusty takes the mine cart for a spin...

Safety first, you crazy cats!

Reading the little description card, I can 
only imagine the wildness of those office parties

The Dry - the area where miners used to shower and 
change

Very poignant note on one of the lockers
in The Dry

ManpanionTM counting rocks

Extremely enthusiastic chap explaining how the 
shaking tables worked.  This guy should seriously have
his own TV show

As well as the modern mine, we also got the chance to walk through an 18th/19th century mine that was mined solely by hand.  We were given hard hats before we went in and told to "watch your step and your head" - and with good reason!  It was very very narrow and tight, with only a few places you could stand upright.  I clonked my head good and proper - as did ManpanionTM, several times!  It was also very wet, with the ground water running into it - when the modern mine ceased operations, they turned off the pumps that used to remove the water and keep it dry and before long, it had completely flooded.  We were only in there for 10 mins or so, but that was enough for us, so to have worked there for 12hrs a day must have been completely miserable!

The thin narrow colored strip is where 
the good stuff is

ManpanionTM enjoying the generous
ceiling heights

We left the mine around 10.15am, to drive over to St Michaels Mount for our 11.30am entry slot.  The timing is actually important here (not just me being all anal) as it determines whether its low tide and that you can walk over causeway - or that its high tide and you need to take a boat across.   Walking across the causeway that gets revealed during low tide is part of the whole experience and the weather, amazingly, was still warm and sunshiney.  It took 10 mins to walk across the causeway, accompanied the whole time by a giant RAF helicopter that whomped-whomped overhead (a Chinook, maybe?).  They are the bumble bees of aircraft - just HOW can they fly?  Giant body, relatively tiny wings (well, rotors).  It really makes no sense.

Walking across the causeway to the Mount - note
the helicopter - its huuuuge!

The harbor on the island at low tide

After crossing the beach and reaching the Mount, we walked through the little town (no more a collection of seafront houses - maybe were all the castle staff live?) and headed up the hill (another hill!) to the castle.  It was steep and cobbly underfoot, so you had to be super careful not to twist an ankle (although, it would probably mean you'd score a trip in that Chinook, so....).  

Noisy squawky seagull

Once at the castle, we then did a self-guided tour (a fancy way to say we wandered through all the areas that were open to the public) which took about an hour.  The castle is still privately owned by the St Aubyn family who still live here today and whose portraits (both alive and dead) are peppered throughout the castle.  You wonder - as they look out of their windows at all the tourists streaming through - if they see us and hear the sounds of cash registers and are happy, or if they see us as necessary irritants to help paying the heating bills and fix the roof.  Probably a bit of both, I would imagine.

Made it to the top of the hill and the castle!

Its really very lovely - very impressive

For some reason, this chap reminded me of 
Benedict Cucumberpatch

Ornate ceiling in the dining room

Complete with stained glass windows that
might have been nicked from a local church

The eye wateringly steep drop all the way
down from uppermost walls

The town of Marazion in the distance

More ornate ceilings - this time in the chapel

With good ole St George doing his thing
with the devil

ManpanionTM with a serious case
of shoe envy

More vertigo inducing stairs....

View from the top of the Minack theater,
 looking down towards the stage and gardens

Once our tour of the castle was done, it was lunchtime so we stopped at the little cafe and had some sandwiches and a pot of tea.  Thankfully much lighter fare today than the last couple of days!  After lunch, it was time to head to our last scheduled stop of the day - the Minack Theater.  The Minack theater is an open air theater, constructed above a gully with a rocky granite outcrop jutting into the sea.  Its in Porthcurno and is only 4 miles from Land's End (which we were not going to have time to visit).  And its not just for show as it is actually a working theater, with shows and performances each year, running from Easter to the end of October.  It was the sole passion and brainchild of the founder Rowena Cade, who sounded like a remarkable, persistent woman - getting the theater built - and then rebuilt, after the devastations of WW1.  It really was impressive and was just gorgeous, sitting on the turf covered benches of the amphitheater, looking out over the stunning coastline and coves below, the sea a gorgeous turquoise blue in the sunshine.

We're over here now!

Glorious glorious views.

Yes.  ManpanionTM can nap literally anywhere.

View of the seating area from the main stage

Names of previous productions etched
into the rock

They had an Anderson shelter outside 
from WWII

As we had driven up to the theater (narrowest roads yet!), we'd noticed this large building on the left and saw that it was the Museum of Global Communications.  This perked ManpanionTM's ears up no end, as he is massively into old electronics (of any kind, really) so we decided to make a stop on our way back.  It meant that we'd have to forego our trip to Mousehole (boo) but we figured this was worth it.  It was another really well done museum with tons of interactive exhibits on - yes - how the improbably tiny little village of Porthcurno played a pivotal role as a global communication hub and shaped the history of telephony. I will admit now that I still don't Fully Understand how it all works, but it was very cool to see all the various old machines that sent and received the earliest telegrams and messages across the world. And its still mind-blowing to me that this whole Internet she-bang depends on actual physical cables. Yes - of course there are satellites - but they are much slower to send/receive data vs the signals whizzing along at bottom of the ocean. Standing before the historic telegraph cables, I couldn't help but marvel at how these slender threads once linked continents, shaping the world as we know it.

So much old electronic garbage.  ManpanionTM was
in absolute heaven.

Adorable cable layer made out Lego

Not sure exactly what these were - but I'm pretty sure we
have at least a couple of them kicking around back home

By the time we were done marveling at all the old stuff in the museum, it was about 4.30pm so it was time to head over to St Ives for our last evening.   I had booked us to stay in an old inn right on the harbor, the Lifeboat Inn - it was a picture perfect location but one that entailed a hair-raising drive through exquisitely narrrow one way streets AND navigating our way past the throngs of (oblivious) tourists who were out in force, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine, and not looking where the eff they were going.  Somehow, we managed to make it to the Inn without taking anyone out, so we parked up to unload our bags and check in, before then having to park up overnight at the long-stay carpark in town, a couple minutes away.  I felt at this point that all my Cornwall driving had been leading up to This Moment as we reached Peak Narrow and Sharp Turn, with a 90 degree angle into the tiny road leading to the carpark that was just wider than my tiny car - and that was a two way street.  I absolutely 100% ignored the sign outside the barrier that said "Car Park FULL" and fucked it into the lot - where I immediately found a space.  Sometimes it does pay to break the rules.  Our room at the inn was delightful - it was like a little apartment, with big windows looking out directly over the harbor where you could sit and watch the sun set/rise.  

Not a bad view, right?

After all that excitement, I went down to the pub for a pint of cider and to blog while ManpanionTM had a nap.  We then went and had dinner at the Thai place next door (we had definitely been overachieving on pub food and needed a break) and it was excellent.

Morning over St Ives Harbor

The next morning, the weather had finally broken and it was grey, cold, cloudy and raining.  After a farewell Cornish breakfast (which was only served between 9 - 10am!), we headed out of the Lifeboat Inn at 9.30am and drove over to Newquay airport to drop the hire car off.  I was very proud to deliver it back without a single additional scratch.  We checked in for our flight, waited for an hour and then we were off on our short little hop back to London.  After an inflight cup of tea and bag of mini-Cheddars again (PAY ATTENTION UNITED - these are a MUCH better inflight snack than a shitty bag of pretzels!!), we landed in Gatwick, quickly got our bags and were on the road driving to Cambridge by 3.30pm.

And not a tiny bag either - a full size one!

The traffic was pretty bad (Thursday afternoon plus M25 plus Dartford Tunnel plus rain is not a great mix) and the GPS was not being cooperative and kept giving strange directions.  We also had to stop and get gas as well as put air in one of the tires so we didn't get to Cambridge til about 5.45pm.  We are staying at the Hotel Du Vin - mainly because its the same chain we stayed at after our Scotland wedding a couple of years ago, so I have some sentimental fondness for it.  I had booked us into the Belle Epoque signature suite which has unique layout - think warren of tiny rooms in a subterranean basement (apparently the hotel used to be 4 separate houses, so it make a bit more sense). 

After checking in, we went for short walk to pick up my Alumni CamCard from the Porter's Lodge at Downing College (via the Department of Pharmacology and my old gaff on Lensfield Road).  It was too cold to really explore much at this point, so we decided to get an early dinner (curry at The Tiffin Box) and then walked back to the hotel (only 10mins away).  We then got a glass of bubbles to go from the bar and then watched a bit of a David Bowie documentary in the personal movie theater that was one of the rooms in our suite!  We only made it about half way through before deciding to call it a night (I was wiped after all the driving) so we were in bed good and early, ready for our last full day in the UK and last stop on Dr H's reminiscing tour!

The Hotel du Vin is right next door to my
old department, so it was very convenient
to drop by and say hello!

Our private theater room!

Plus a little private garden terrace - 
alas, too cold to sit out in