Dreaming Spires

The air in Cambridge is rarer than in other parts of the country. It seems to be thinned out by its being spread across generations of be-spired buildings and their inhabitants, whom one can imagine all still inhabit the place, just a step to the side...

Poetic pretensions aside, it was a great day out. Tony and I got on the bike nice and early... well, sort of early... and rode up in the brilliant sunshine. Lunch was had at a place which didn't serve chips with everything (they exist! Wow!), which had a great view of the road for watching people, and deciding which were tourists, who went to the University, and which of the old mad homeless men were tenured professors.

The King's College Chapel

After lunch we went to see King's College Chapel. This "Chapel" (read: private Cathedral) was pretty amazing, but doesn't stand out as the coolest one I've seen. The way out took us in to the grounds proper, where we wandered the paths - they actually have "keep off the grass" signs! - and watched punters pass on the river Cam.

The Grounds of King's College

People punting on the Backs, as seen from the King's College grounds

Avoiding touts, we made our way down the crowded streets to where the punts start. We got in to a boat with ten other people and proceeded to be poled up and down the river by a very dextrous young man, who regaled us with tales of the colleges, and the odd gem detailing reasons why Cambridge is better than "the Other Place".Our punt, with the Cambridge "Bridge of Sighs". It connects some of the student accomodation to the exam halls.

After our punt, we went to a pub called the Eagle for a quick cooling orange-and-lemonade before the long ride back to London. A sign near our seat proclaimed that the table next to ours is where DNA was discovered and officially announced. It said that the two professors who came up with the idea ate dinner there together six nights a week. Presumambly the other night their mothers cooked for them. And so ended my enlightening day in Cambridge.

EDIT: Also, I have just added some more photos to the posts from "Ogle Castle" and up. Enjoy!

Lake District

It is the stuff of poetry - striding across windy moors, over purple heather and scrub, climbing scree slopes and finally coming out above a vast, moody lake, the view of which inspired Wordsworth, Keats, and... some other dudes.

Unfortunately, it all remained in the poetry. It rained, horribly, and the only views we got were of mist-shrouded valleys which Andy swore had lakes in them. We tried to get out to do some striding, but were blown directly back in to the car before we had even properly made it out of the car park. We huddled in the car to eat our picnic, then resigned ourselves to driving the lakes rather than walking them.

In the Battle of Peugot vs. Road, Road won.

Luckily, Cockermouth (the little town we were staying in) has almost as many pubs as people, and two breweries, so time spent indoors was by no means wasted. I have now been indoctrinated in the ways of the British warm flat beer, which they call ale. I kind of like it. It isn't the kind of thing you'd drink at home, of course, but in an old pub with blackened beams and a fireplace, while the wind howls outside and rain lashes against the window panes (and this is in summer!), you just can't drink cold beer - it is too cold!

I'm back in London now, and going to try to see as much as I can before I go to Cardiff for a bit of Welsh next week. Twenty-eight days until I'm home!

Again we confirm that forward planning is a good thing, and winging it brings its own 'rewards'

Well, my last posts have all been a bit brief and uninformative, so I thought it was time I got something up telling you where in the world I am, and what I've been up to. Not much, to be honest. Hence the short posts.

I got back from my Cornwall trip with Tony and hung out with him for a couple of days. Then, to save some money (this is the only reason, honest. I'm not a geek.) I went to stay with my friend Jamie in Kilburn, and played Oblivion all day every day for a week. I knew that wouldn't make a very good blog post. "Today I killed seven goblins, twelve mudcrabs, three slaughterfish, four bandits, and was killed by a troll. I hadn't saved so I took out my frustrations on Jamie's toilet." Fascinating stuff.

On the Sunday I had to go out to get some more blue dye because almost all of the colour had gone - it was starting to look a bit of an ectoplasm-green kind of colour. I met Antona, Andy and Tony on the way there for lunch, and then (because I found that the hair place in Camden was closed, and I decided that I might as well see some sun) I went out to a festival with them afterward. That was pretty much all I did that week, apart from going out again the next day on a slightly more successful mission to get dye, hence the second pic of me with blue hair.

On Wednesday, after a full seven days of Oblivion (in which I got maybe a sixth through the main quest - waah!) I left for Northumberland. Newcastle was exactly like the place you would imagine Geordies to come from: loud, brash, full of grotty cheap bars and strip clubs, but friendlier than anywhere else in the whole world. I found Ogle Castle, as I sort-of described in the previous post, and then moved on.

A main road in Newcastle. This is the pretty part of the city.

I had heard from some friends I made on my Contiki trip - hi Val, hi Matt! - who are living in Glasgow, and I decided it would be cool to go out with them once more before I left. Newcastle is kind-of almost in the neighbourhood, so I told them I was coming up for the weekend and that they would have to entertain me. I did, and they did, and it was great! Drunken pictionary... always good!Val and Matt (his trousers are ripped, he doesn't have three legs) hanging out in their tenement.

Unfortunately, when I had booked my ticket to Newcastle I hadn't really planned it all that well... or, to be honest, at all! What I should have done was gone to Glasgow first, stayed there four days including the weekend, then to Newcastle, and from there to Cockermouth (yes, laugh, go on) where I am meeting Antona and Andy and Tony for a few days in the Lakes District. What I did was just book my ticket from London straight to Newcastle, so I then had to rush getting to my castle (which, because I was only there for one day, involved taxi-ing - £££! -rather than the one-a-day public transport). I then spent the weekend in Glasgow, which was highly enjoyable but which left me a week away from meeting Antona and co., but too close by to justify going back down to London...

The only good thing about Newcastle - easy access to Hadrian's Wall. It's just not five days' worth of fun.

As a stop-gap I decided to book myself in to a place sort of on the way, because there looked like there wasn't too much to do in Cockermouth. Carlisle looked like the biggest place which was in the right area, so I booked there. I am now in my... fourth? fifth day? I am so confused. Anyway, Carlisle is BOOORING! I am going a bit mad here. Luckily I only have today and tomorrow left, so I can probably fill those with something. There is a castle I haven't been in to yet which I plan to do after lunch, and a museum which should occupy me for the rest of tomorrow before Antona comes to rescue me from the ignominious fate of getting stuck in Carlisle for longer than I have to.

Ogle Castle

The village of Ogle is about 20mins out of Newcastle. It is comprised of about twenty houses, and no shops - not even a pub! The Lady of the castle was out when I visited, so I only got to have a look at the front, but that was enough. It is a very pretty looking manor house, with ivy and a gravel driveway lined with trees. There are horses in nearby fields, as well as various other forms of livestock. The coat of arms on the iron gates is very familiar.

The Manor

The village of Whalton, where the church for the area (and the pub, which was my original goal) is located, is 1.5 miles (a long walk!) away down a single-track road. The church has all sorts of distingushed-seeming Ogles buried there; you can tell we were important because there are plaques to said ancestors right up the front, inside the church.

For Rob and Tony