I arrived in Cambridge after a red-eye flight, a dayful of work meetings, kidney pie for lunch, and having to put up with my chain-smoking friend Tom who couldn't go more than 20 minutes without firing up another Marlboro Light. The weather was a bit bi-polar that day and it couldn't decide if it should be sunny or rainy, but fortunately for us, we caught it during one of its sunny moods. We parked the car at the entrance to a wrought-iron gate that led us down a shady path lined by tall poplars. The path opened up to an immaculately manicured lawn that resembled a soft green carpet worthy enough of laying down and drifting off into la-la land. But there was no time for that as the buildings of old beckoned us into their arched walkways. My eyes were drawn upwards in long sweeping glances as my mouth gaped open in amazement. Cambridge is an ancient town, and dates back to the 9th century. I could only imagine the centuries worth of quirky professors that spoke in these halls of crusty academia.
River Cam
We chanced upon the River Cam which ran through the center of the university. I noticed a boat full of starry eyed people gazing up at me as their guide paddled them through a narrow passage under a covered bridge. Their boat glided softly, silently acquiescing to the slow current that gently pushed them along. After walking over the stone bridge and through an echo-filled corridor, we entered a series of inner courtyards and finally came out through a grand oaken door. We discovered the cobblestone streets full of roaming faces ducking in & out of shops selling University of Cambridge merchandise.
Canalboats
We were desperately thirsty and chanced upon the Eagle Tavern, a watering hole full of patrons that lined its dark paneled walls and oaken benches. Since it looked like smokers were welcome, Tom ushered us in, and made a beeline to the bar. We ordered English pints of a dark amber ale which were served warm, but were bloody good. On the patio, we clinked our glasses as we said, "Cheers to the next 9 days." We each knew this was just the beginning of a long week of travels, where England was just the first of 5 countries we each would visit. Tom took a drag from his cigarette, looked around at the local Brits, and finally exhaled a puff of smoke as he said, "English women are too pasty."
"Cheers to that!" I replied.
-Marvin A.
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