I cannot imagine what Cambridge looked like in the 1930s.
Cambridge has a more utilitarian feel to it. The students seem more diverse than those we saw at Oxford. Very small sample.
We are up early. I do not go for my morning walk. Betty has read about Fitzbillies. A Cambridge tradition for breakfast.
We arrive at the original Fitzbillies on Trumpington Rd. Fitzbillies is famous for its Chelsea Bun. Founded in 1920, it is a quaint corner restaurant.
The service and food is good. That is a compliment. The people watching is extraordinary. In the corner, there is a professor looking like a gentleman trying to impress a younger lady. There are eastern European tourists adjusting to the English menu. Children with a mother, being polite.
Breakfast is leisurely. Betty has a mid morning appointment at Toni & Guy.
We cross in front of Cambridge University. We decide to met again in about an hour and half and then plan the rest of our day.
It is a sunny day. The temperature is comfortable. I have no destination in mind. I walk up Bridge St. (Regents Street) to the Cam River and the "Punting" vendors under the bridge.
I decide to look for the Bridge of Sighs - Cambridge. The bridge was built in 1831 and named after the Bridge of Sighs in Venice (it does not resemble). The bridge cross over the River Cam at St. John's College.
I turn left for no reason at all. And, as often happens, I find adventure.
At intersection, I turn left. I am somewhat interested in following the river. My idea is to complete a rough circle back to Toni & Guy and meet with Betty.
After a block or so, the road becomes tree covered and somewhat private - very little traffic. on right, there is a park and parking area. To my left, I am tracking with the river. It appears to be very much an enclosed park. There are fences. The occasional gates are open.
There is some work being done. For no real reason, I turn right at one of the gates. It is a small road and the secondary, larger gate is open. There are no signs forbidding entry. There are also no welcoming signs.
I meander into the park. Within fifty yards, I realize that I am at the rear of one one of the colleges. From the main road in front of the colleges, you do not realize how extensive the grounds are.
There is the River Cam. I walk the shore as I see punts with tourists being poled. It is calming and traditional. The surroundings are english green with large trees, green grass and fine paths. I am looking for a bridge to cross over to the impressive buildings.
I know that any moment a security officer will walk up and ask me to leave. I am that obvious. A singular figure on a background of green. Plus, it is obvious I have no idea where I am.
I see the bridge. The bridge aligns with a massive building with a portico the width of the building. There is a guard. He eyes me as I walk up the path.
When in doubt, act like you belong. I have the advantage of age. I have the excuse of age. If he stops me, "Holy cow, I am lost. I did not know". I am prepared.
Nothing. He knows and I know. But, he is not quite sure. I simply am not worth it.
I walk tall with my shoulders back. I am self consciously confident.
I enter through a door. I am now joined by other tourists who entered through the front gate of Trinity College and paid. I entered through the back door and I am waiting for the tap on the shoulder.
I follow the tourists - a man and woman - into anteroom . There is a reception desk. The woman at the desk is very pleasant. "Do I want a ticket to see the library". "Of course".
I climb the stairway up to the Wren Library.
The Wren Library was designed by Christopher Wren in 1676 and completed in 1695.
I love bookstores and libraries. I have been fortunate during our journeys to visit several great libraries. Now, Wren and it was by accident.
The tourist ticket takes you to the exhibit area of the library. The books are in sealed glass exhibit cases with the books open and turned to specific pages. I know that does not sound breath taking, but it is.
There is A.A. Milne's manuscript of Winnie-the-Pooh, Capell collection of Shakespeare, autographed poems by Milton, the first printed book in English and more. I am joyful.
I am now more confident. Apparently, the entrance ticket allows you to wonder the grounds of Trinity. With students and tourists, I have disappeared into the masses.
My hour and half is almost up. It is time to meet Betty and have lunch. I am excited to tell Betty of my adventure.
I turn left onto King's Parade and head toward the park in front of Toni & Guy. Consistently, Betty has been more satisfied with the cuts and coloring in Europe and UK than the US. And, there is always Florence.
Betty looks great. We walk up to the Bridge again. Betty asked if I found the "Bridge of Sighs". I did not. Reality is that I came very close. My guess is that there are two ways to view the Bridge - a Punting tour or paying the entry fee to St John's.
We walk back to the Cambridge University. I tell Betty about my adventure. She is not impressed.
It is about 1 PM and the weather is about to turn cooler. We stop for lunch at the The Senate Bar & Bistro. It is soup, sandwich and beer. Betty has lemonade.
After lunch, we cross the street to view Great St. Mary's Church. I climb the bell tower for a view of Cambridge.
It is a quiet and lazy afternoon. We walk and find a small bookstore. Surely, they have interesting books. No.
We shop up King's Parade towards where it becomes Trumpington Rd. We turn right to Pembroke St. It is late afternoon. We stop at the Museum of Archaeology. Pembroke Street turns into Downing Street.
We stop at another small University Museum. Betty remains outside. I very briefly enter and view.
Downing Street ends at Emmanuel College with the Indoor Shopping Mall to the left.
Betty informs me that her relative was a professor at the college 300 years or so ago. I am very impressed.
We are tired and pass up looking through the gate. It is close to 4PM and the middle of October. It will be dark soon. we stop at Tesco for food to eat in our room. I need to eat quickly since I need to visit a laundromat tonight.
I have researched available laundromats and selected one I think I can find and is self service (I have found that you have to be careful on this issue). It is always a little embarrassing to walk through a lobby with a large bag(s). You do feel everyone is looking at you. Particularly, a lobby of the Gonville.
It is dark. I am not sure what to expect. There is still traffic. The laundromat is in the opposite direction of today's and yesterday's touring. How long to walk a mile and quarter?
I turn right and walk past library. I turn to the right again. It is a commercial street. The street is quiet with little traffic. It is more of a residential neighborhood.
I pass restaurants which are still waiting for patrons to arrive from work.
I continually scan both sides of the street. I really do not want to use data.
The Laundromat is on the other side of the street and next to a Tesco Express. I scan the machines to see if I will know how to operate. I then start to look the cost per load and the cost of soap. Do I have enough coins to do all the laundry.
I do not. I separate the laundry into three piles - Betty, John and gentle. I have two other "laundromaters"to share the machines. There are open machines. I load three machines, pay and start. I am out of coins and the changer does not work.Let me explain, one and two pound are coins. So these are not quarters we are taking about. I have a great deal of loose coins in my pockets, but only a few pound coins.
I go next door to Tesco Express. I could ask the clerk for change. Instead, I buy a soda and hand the clerk a ten pound note. She bags it and hands me my change.
AHA. My newly gained skill with the UK monetary system comes out. She hands me a one pound coin instead of two pound coin. By accident or as a slight of hand, I point out that my change is incorrect. She hesitates. I insist. She finally checks her cash draw and determines that she was wrong. I smile a prideful smile.
The hardest part of a tour of a laundromat is the waiting. It is the drying process that takes multiple cycles. Fortunately, these machines are efficient. I sort and fold. I neatly place into the bags and begin my walk back to the hotel. The walk back seems quicker. I know where I am going. The restaurants are more active. They look very interesting.
I try again to act nonchalant as I walk through the lobby. Of course, the elevator is glass so I falsely feel the eyes watch and know where I have been.
Tomorrow - Southwold. The end of the journey.
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