Two more survivors of The Mug Aversion Therapy.
If you are interested in Heraldry, then these mugs from the two University Cities are particularly rewarding as the Cambridge one has 25 Coats of Arms on and the Oxford no less than 36.
We were a touch disappointed in Oxford. Perhaps if we had not been familiar with Cambridge we would have seen it in a better light. We saw all the sights familiar from Inspector Morse and went round Trinity College and liked what we saw, and felt the sense of history but there was something missing. I think it was because Oxford makes very little of their river while at Cambridge you have the wonderful Backs, you can stroll besides the river and watch amazingly inept punters on the verge of an early bath.
We are keen watchers of University Challenge, one of the few programmes on the BBC that requires an IQ of over 25, we even sometimes manage to get an answer right, though nothing that involves periodic tables. We usually pick a team out and follow their fortunes. This particular year we were following Gonville & Caius College of Cambridge who got to the final only to be beaten by Magdalen of Oxford.
We were strolling along Trinity Street in Cambridge, when I thought I know this bloke coming towards me. I thought “I know him from somewhere” as you do, then realised it was the Captain of the Gonville & Caius team. To Lady C’s alarm I went up and asked if he was who I thought he was and he was indeed who I thought he was. So we commiserated over the bad run of questions they’d had and he pointed out Gonville & Caius college he’d just come out of and said he was on his way to a tutorial otherwise he’d have shown us round. We were the first members of the public to actually indicate we recognised him from the TV. A pleasant little encounter.
Less pleasant was where we were staying.
We had stayed at various Motels in this chain when going a long way (for me) to our holiday destination so I had the brilliant ?? idea of stopping at one near Cambridge for a few days.
I had printed out the `find us’ map but after several passes up and down this very busy dual carriageway I gave up, found a phone, and rang them for directions. I was told I was just on the other side of the road from them so I looked across at the abandoned petrol station opposite and realised almost hidden behind it was this motel.
Getting to it was a problem as the only way to get across the road was to drive until you got to one of these bridges built across it and down onto the other carriageway. This I did, accelerated madly up to the 60 mph traffic speed then realised I was almost on to it, winked left, braked hard and pulled onto the motel slip road which was all of 30 feet long before a 90 degree bend through the derelict remains of the petrol station that could well have featured in Kahlila’s Abandoned Buildings Series. After this four wheel drift with shrieking tyres that a F1 driver would have been proud of and bouncing in and out of its potholes I emerged from the ruins into the Motels car park. When I recovered I went into the reception and told the young lady my name. To my unease she fetched the manager.
“I believe you are staying four nights?”
I nodded. He came round the counter and shook my hand.
“You’re a bloody hero sir” he said
It wasn’t THAT bad but getting in and out demanded heroic qualities as the out bound slip road was about the same 30 foot length and I doubt that a Top Fuel Dragster could have got up to traffic speed in that length.
I usually waited looking in my mirrors until a big box van came along then pedal to the metal, go for it and nip into the gap behind him so the suction would pull me up to his speed before the horn blowing,fist waving next driver hit my bumper.
I suppose it really rated as an Adventure Holiday.
