My Last Week in Cambridge, Part 2

The packing's done, and nearly everything fit into my suitcase! In amongst running errands and packing and other last things, I managed to take a few pictures around Jesus this afternoon. The weather cooperated nicely, although the college cat didn't make an appearance for the camera (though I did find out that there were once two, but that the mean one hasn't been seen for about a year; the nice one is a girl kitty named Raggy, if sieve-memory serves, who indeed does spend a good deal in one of the staircases in Chapel Court--the same doorway where Lauren and I saw her a week ago). I did have to work around a bevy of groundskeepers, though, as I took these photos.

The Chimney:


There's lots of modern sculpture around Jesus College:




The chapel:


Walking into Cloister Court:


And finally, I got around to trying one of Fitzbillies' famous Chelsea buns. I understand why they're famous now, and would certainly not turn one down again, although (as Celia from purple podded peas feared) the currants weren't exactly welcome. But even despite the currants, I could see getting a craving for the tasty contrast between the slightly crunchy bun and the syrup it's drenched in.

Now I'm off to get a few hours' sleep before I head off on the 5:10am bus to Heathrow tomorrow. A few days in Clare, and then I'm NYC-bound! It's time to see my own kitty, and of course, J.

Weekend Report

This afternoon, despite threatening rain and fairly chilly temperatures, Lauren (who is visiting for the weekend) and I went for a walk, first to look at the river from Magdalene College, then to Kettle's Yard to see the animation exhibit. Nice daffodils at Magdalene:



From Kettle's Yard, we paused briefly to look at St. Peter's Church next door--


--and then headed to Fitzbillies, where we intended to sample their famous Chelsea buns. But alas, they were out of them. I wasn't really surprised to hear that, but I was surprised and dismayed that they had also run out of scones (so no cream tea for us) AND that our waiter was unnecessarily snarky about it. At one point, thinking we were entering a Monty Python Cheese Shop sketch zone, I asked him what they did still have. Anyway, my chocolate cake was passable, but nothing spectacular. The snarky waiter was infuriating enough that it's possible I won't go out of my way to try the Chelsea buns--and in any case, I certainly won't bother sitting in the cafe to do so.

This negative food experience contrasts greatly with our wonderful luck yesterday in London. Upon arrival, we hit the markets at Camden Lock, and immediately found the outdoor food stalls. There, we were spoiled for choice, but both went for Venezuelan cornbread arepas, mine with roasted vegetables and Lauren's with chicken and avocado. Glorious street food! Then some warm caffeine was in order to make the drizzle more bearable. We stumbled upon a little tea house called Yumchaa. Delicious tea, and we split a to-die-for brownie. If I'd known it would be that good, I'd have gotten an extra to bring home!

After a great deal of wandering around the market, we headed across town for a completely different retail experience: Harrod's. Mainly, I just wanted to ogle the food and design in the food halls, but I also needed to pick up a few things to bring to my mother. By the time we'd dodged the crowds and done a fair amount of walking we were glad to hit Masala Zone, which Sarah (the other NYU student here) had recommended. A huge Indian vegetarian thali feed--not the absolute best Indian I've ever had, but still very good, with a few standout dishes: the paneer in tomato sauce was tasty and balanced, and the rice cake had extra flavor those don't usually have. The potato side dish was also delicious, though in general everything was a lot milder than I'd have liked. The restaurant obviously appeals to a cosmopolitan (if not desperately wealthy) set, and probably caters to somewhat less adventurous English and tourist palates, or perhaps we both just ordered milder dishes. In any case, it was good and I'll be attempting to go back for lunch before I leave.

Standout edible of the weekend: the brownie at Yumchaa

Gerhard Richter

The other day, I took some time out from my research at the British Library and went down to the Tate Modern. I'd never been, but had been goaded by Jeanette Winterson's nonfiction to go check it out, although to my chagrin, I didn't take the time to really sit with any one work. The museum was surprisingly crowded for a Tuesday afternoon, and I knew I needed to get back up to the BL in time to put in a few hours there before getting the train back to Cambridge.

But even though I didn't hang out long, it was a great visit. I saw all kinds of stuff: a few paintings that made me extremely uncomfortable, but in a productive way (works by African painters--I can't remember their names, alas, which is uncomfortable in an unproductive way!); a set that made me laugh wryly (Ellen Gallagher's DeLuxe); some by-now strangely comforting works (Giacometti); one little painting that I found extraordinarily mysterious and quietly provoking (Vanessa Bell's abstract); and some stuff I just loved. Gerhard Richter fits into that final category.


(from the Tate Modern's website)

I had been very bummed out by the building, though: it seemed like a warehouse, artificial from top to bottom, and sort of dingy, though to be sure, it was a sort of dingy day outside as well. I was surprised, because although I do love various forms of old architecture, I also love more modern buildings. But just now, I read the blurb about the building, and although I still thought the interior space could have been better arranged to discourage 'seeing the art at a trot' (to paraphrase Winterson), I'm impressed that the museum building was once a power station. That they used an existing building makes up for a lot, even though at first visit I wasn't so impressed with how the redesign was done. Maybe future visits will change my mind--and at any rate, my lasting impression was the art, not its container.