2020 was full of memorable moments. Most weren’t the sort I usually reminisce over – hikes, trips away and the like – but they were memorable moments nonetheless.
Moments that sparked laughter, or joy.
Moments that, in a normal year, would be long since lost to the murky depths of my memory.
Continue reading “What 2020 Taught Me”
I was struggling to find words to describe the past few months, to piece together how life as we know it became life as we knew it.
And then, on an episode of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? of all places, along came this quote:
‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.’
Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
I could, so easily, write off this year. I’ve seen only a handful of friends in person this year; I’ve not seen my parents or sister since Christmas. I’m still living in Cambridge (which is picturesque and rather nice sans touristes, but not somewhere I’ve ever felt especially at home). I’ve not gone on a single hike.
Continue reading “Cambridge Chronicles #6 | September 2020”
Many moons ago, I made a list of places to go, recipes to try, hikes to fill my weekends with and the like. ‘Cairngorms.’ ‘Seven Sisters hike.’ ‘Run a half marathon.’ ‘Bake a vegetable-based cake.’ ‘See Les Misérables.’
I didn’t want 2020 to slip through my fingers.
But 2020 had other ideas.
Continue reading “The Glad Game”
Some months flew by; others crawled. (And now? The UK is virtually grinding to a halt and we’re down to our last six loo rolls. Not words I ever thought I’d type, it must be said.) I’ve spent some lovely evenings with work friends, including a delicious (and very reasonably priced) meal at Cookhouse Joe. I followed that particular meal up with a detour to Carnaby Street: their Christmas lights installation, a collaboration with Project Zero, was something else. Closer to home, Laurence and I (finally) went for food at The Blue Ball in Grantchester, saw the Fitzwilliam Museum’s Feast and Fast exhibition, and returned to the ADC Theatre for Footlights Spring Revue 2020: Crossed Wires.
When I last penned an update, I wasn’t sure how the past few months would pan out. As it turns out, they’ve been chock-full with local goings-on and adventures further afield. We spent Easter exploring Dartmoor National Park, and getting somewhat scorched in the process (slight understatement – I returned to work looking like a tomato). Six weeks later, we were up in the Yorkshire Dales, soaked to the skin in a downpour. (Needless to say, a treacle tart from Booths lifted our spirits immeasurably!) We’ve ticked a few more things off our East Anglia to-visit list over the past few months, with a day trip to Saffron Walden (a quaint little town full of colourful half-timbered buildings), an afternoon picking strawberries at Bury Lane Farm Shop, and a cycle ride to Hot Numbers’ new(ish) roastery, near Shepreth.
Give or take a day, I’ve now been living in Cambridge for eighteen months. That might not sound like a long time, but it’s the longest I’ve lived at one address for quite some time (six years, five months and twenty-two days, to be precise). Since my last update on life ‘Down South’, I’ve ventured to Portugal, Germany and France. Closer to home, I’ve munched my way through a few more of Cambridge’s eateries (Pint Shop, Bread & Meat and Urban Larder are spots I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend), caught up with friends and family and squeezed in a few country walks.
New year, same me (minus the scaly, eczema-plagued hands). 2018 was a blast, even if I am hurtling towards being a member of the quarter-century club (argh, how time flies!). To those who have read La Grenouille Anglaise since the beginning, and to those who have joined along the way, thank you – for your comments, support and words of encouragement. With 2019 already well underway, it’s time to take a look back at some of 2018’s most memorable moments. On y va !
Six months have passed since my first update on life ‘Down South’, and that means only one thing: it’s time for the second. I’m putting pen to paper – or fingers to keyboard – a little later than usual this weekend, as it’s been all go chez moi. Open House London took place this weekend, and Laurence and I decided to make a day of it. We took a rooftop tour around King’s Cross (the area, not the station), whizzed up to Landing Forty-Two at the Leadenhall Building (à la the final five in The Apprentice), learnt about arms smuggling at Custom House, ventured underground to see Billingsgate Roman Baths and visited the opulent Clothworkers’ Hall. I also took up running earlier this year (primarily as a means of getting in shape ahead of the West Highland Way), and spent this morning running round Jesus Green in the rain doing the Decathlon Sports Series 5k.
While the North will always have my heart, Cambridge is a rather nice place to call home, for the time being at least. I can’t quite believe how fast time is passing; days, weeks and months have slipped by, punctuated by train rides, café trips and baking sessions. I’ve finally got my bearings, figured out how to dodge the over-eager students pitching punting tours and found a handful of cafés which can be relied upon for a decent hot chocolate and a wedge of cake. Six months have been and gone, and I’ve decided it’s high time for a wee update on life ‘Down South’ . . .
La Grenouille Anglaise 