Cambridge and the Historical Heat

 Dearest readers,

 

It’s been a couple of weeks since last we spoke, and a lot has happened—the record was set for hottest day in the UK in the history of recorded weather events (lucky me to be here for such a historic occasion!), and I got trapped in seaside Brighton for not one, two, but three nights! But I’m getting ahead of myself. When last I checked in with you, I was sitting in the Bodleian waiting for Stephen to arrive back in Oxford. Well, he made it back without issue and we had a lovely evening, full of stories! Always great so see him and talk! We also took another late night walk through the Deer Grove (definitely my favorite thing at Oxford!) and had quite a lovely dinner at an Italian restaurant. Early the next morning, He was off to Norway, and I was off to the Ashmolean to attend their exhibition on Pre-Raphaelite drawings: it did not disappoint! I love the Pre-Raphaelites, and seeing their preparatory drawings was quite insightful. I love tracing the evolution of works of art from conception to completion—inspirational!

 

The next day, I was off to Cambridge. There were already problems with the railway (foreshadowing of things to come!). My first train was cancelled, and then put back onto the docket, and then re-routed (added about another 45 min to our journey) which meant that I missed my connecting train…anyway. Eventually, I arrived in Cambridge, where I proceeded to wander the streets in the dreadful heat looking for the entrance to St. Catharine’s College, where I had booked a room. After what seemed like ages of searching to no avail, I called the porter and was told that the college is under construction (so it’s more difficult to find) he directed me to the gate, and I was able to enter—AT LAST! I was so looking forward to putting down my bags and cooling off. Oh, how I was mistaken. I was lodged on the fourth floor of the old building (no a/c, no fans), and apparently, the undergraduates like to climb out on the roof, risking life and limb, so the windows were chained to open a mere inch. No breeze, no relief, no hope. 

 

It was a miserable prospect. It was already so hot, and it was just meant to get hotter as the thermostat neared 104-degrees! I went out and found an air-conditioned restaurant (lovely!) where I ate a subpar lunch (really expensive, not tasty), and then returned to my oven-room. I tried to take a nap, watched some TV, and then returned to the air-conditioned subpar restaurant for a nightcap. This was my favorite part of the day! I met these two men (Steve and John) who were so sweet! They were on a tour of grand houses in the area, and Steve (nicknamed Quinn) is a show manager for one of my favorite musicals—Wicked!) in America. When he found out how much I love it, and that I’ve never seen it, he invited me to be his guest at the premiere of Wicked in Houston in Spring 2023!! SO EXCITING!!! 

 

After my long talk with John and Steve Quinn, I went back to the dorm and tried to sleep, to various degrees of success. It was so hot, humid, and just generally miserable. 

 

The next day was Sunday, so I decided to attend a Church service in Cambridge. Instead of a Presbyterian Church, I had found a Reformed Baptist Church called Eden in the heart of Cambridge. It seemed like a good option, so I went. It was the worst Church service I’ve been to in England. 

There. Were. Puppets.

 

Needless to say—dreadful, and quite disheartening. After this final blow (also no a/c in the Church and It. Was. Hot), I decided to take a train to Brighton (by the sea—Pride and Prejudice lovers will remember that this is where Lydia Bennet falls in love with the rake-ish Mr. Wickham). Since it is on the coast, it was meant to be about 10-degrees cooler than Cambridge.

 

I made it to Brighton, and it was cooler, and I was happier. In search of Mr. Wickham, I went to a local pub for dinner. And man, did I find him. I met an Eastern European gentleman (was he a gentleman, it's difficult to say for certain), who was determined to get met to hop on the back of his motorcycle and take a spin. I've never had to practice "saying no" so much in my life! He was extremely persistent. And, anyone who knows me well, knows that this was a serious temptation. I've always wanted to ride on a motorcycle. But, I realized, that I did not want to ride on a motorcycle with him. It matters who one does certain things with--and I didn't particularly want to do, well, anything with him. I made my escape, and went back to the flat. I spent one night at this very centrally located flat, and then went to a boarding house hosted by a solicitor named Babs. It was, without a doubt, the best Airbnb I have ever stayed in. Babs was amazing! She gave me snacks, tea, and stimulating conversation. She had a cat!! He was lovely—made me miss my cat, Minnie! It was so much fun! 

At the train station, I had been informed that trains most likely would not run on Tuesday (this was Monday) because of the heat—apparently, tracks buckle in the heat, to the entire country basically shuts down when it’s hot. So, in spite of the fact that I had a lunch meeting with Professor De Bolla, a prominent Cambridge scholar, and a meeting at the Fitzwilliam Museum to view an original William Blake Songs of Innocence and of Experience, I was forced to stay in Brighton for another night. Babs, thank heaven!, had a room available, so I was able to stay with her again. She really was a godsend. I ended up tasting British fish and chips for the first time (delicious!) and Babs let me watch the new Persuasion adaptation on her television. Apart from the fact that it was still scorchingly hot (really, really hot—and still, no a/c), and that I wasn’t getting any sleep (because, again, SO HOT!) I enjoyed my time in Brighton. I really loved meeting Babs (and one of my co-boarders, Rachel). Honestly, if I could have lived in a place like that my whole time in England and been near enough to archives, libraries, etc., I would do it. Babs was great, and I loved meeting and interacting with the other boarders!

 

Finally, on Wednesday, it was time to head back to Cambridge. Peter De Bolla had told me he could meet for lunch on Wednesday, I had purchased an early morning train ticket—everything was going according to plan. And then, it happened: all of the trains to Cambridge got cancelled. Not just the early ones—ALL OF THEM. For the entire day! I kind of freaked out a bit. I did not have a place to stay. I’d already rescheduled all of my meetings for Thursday (the Fitzwilliam and King’s College had been very accommodating). I called Professor De Bolla and told him the situation—he said he could meet on Thursday. But I had no way of getting back to Cambridge…Then, I started brainstorming. What about a bus?

 

I called Stephen (a much more experienced traveler than I) to ask if a bus was feasible and what I should do. He had some great advice. Anyway, long story short, I purchased a bus ticket from London, Victoria, to Cambridge. Then, I hung out in Brighton until 5:00pm, and went back to the train station to board a train to Victoria to catch my bus.

 

That, too, was cancelled—can you believe it?—luckily, or perhaps providentially, I had planned to arrived in Victoria a bit before my bus departed, so I was able to catch a later train and still rush to the bus station in time. 

 

I needn’t have bothered. The bus was then significantly delayed. Then, when the bus was in transit, it was redirected, adding another 45 min to the already 3+ hour trip. I finally arrived in Cambridge around 11pm, starving, overheated, and significantly annoyed. I made it back to my dorm (still felt like an oven) and had a bit of a breakdown. There was nowhere to get food (everything in Cambridge closes around 10:30pm), it was too hot to think of sleep, and I was exhausted. It is here that a true hero enters my story (actually, there were two heroes). The first, unsurprisingly to any who know her, was my mama. I called her, and she talked to me for a bit, calmly assessing the situation. She then recommended I go sit outside (where it was significantly cooler than the oven-room). I did. Also, she recommended that I contact the Porter and ask if he could open the windows. The second hero was this Porter. David. He was so kind to me! He told me he could not open the windows (because, again, the undergrads try to commit kamikaze off the roof), but he could give me a portable fan! He also let me into a room with a vending machine where I was able to get some snacks. I was so, so thankful for him! Indeed, I think I’ll never forget how he helped me and just his general understanding and conversation.

 

The next day, I had meetings from 9am-6pm: first, I went to King’s College and viewed the Blake Songs—so amazing! Then, coffee with Prof. De Bolla—informative, inspirational, so, so helpful! And finally, viewing of the Blake materials at the Fitzwilliam, where I met a wonderful curator named Ellen. She was so great! And showed a great deal of interest in my work (always nice!). Then that evening, I attended a Shakespeare play, Twelfth Night, which was part of the Cambridge Shakespeare Festival. I had intended to only attend this play, but it was SO GOOD, that I ended up going to all of the offerings of the Cambridge Shakespeare Festival. I saw As You Like It, King Lear, and I saw Twelfth Night twice!! 

 

All in all, I would say that Cambridge was productive academically, and that I made some good contacts. Professor De Bolla really inspired me and showed a lot of interest in my work. He helped me talk through some issues I have been having with a particular chapter and served as an excellent sounding board for the project writ-large. I am so thankful to have met him! Ellen really boosted my confidence in my work. She found it so intriguing and asked some really useful questions. And the Cambridge Shakespeare Festival was a joy! And yet, all in all, I’m left feeling like I did not enjoy my time in Cambridge. One is always tempted to compare Oxford and Cambridge—everyone does it, especially in the UK. What I can say, without question, is that considering my experience both places, there’s no competition. Oxford wins, hands down! I understand that circumstances conspired: St. Catharine’s was under construction (And it would never be a Magdalen, even in the best of circumstances), it literally was hot as hell…and yet, I think even if everything had been perfect, I would have preferred Oxford. It is the difference between brick and stone, between community and culture, between a town and a city. I loved Oxford, and I will always cherish my memories there. Cambridge, I learned a lot, but I would never say I loved it. Will I go back? Certainly! Will I dream of it? No. I will only dream of the City of the Dreaming Spires, for that is a truly magical place. 

 

On our next installment, I will introduce you to Danielle (my new friend) and cover these last few days in London. Tomorrow, I leave for Norway to meet back up with Stephen in Oslo—I’m so excited! 

 

Until next time,

 

Nina