The corner tree

Neighbours discussing what to do around the tree

The tree on the corner of our street needs a makeover - or at least the muddy bit of earth around it does. So, in a fit of what I like to think of as public spiritedness  I contacted Transition Cambridge to see if they might be interested in helping with some planting.

We decided to have a meeting around the tree, and I stuck leaflets in letter boxes, posters on fences, talked to a few neighbours, and then waited for the day.

There was a good turnout, about a dozen people came (and went) - even though it was about -10C (the coldest day for many years) at 10am that morning. I had gone out with my hair still slightly wet so found it frozen to my head within minutes.

It was surprising how strongly people feel about the tree. One consideration is that it must still be able to be used as a play area and for children's bake sales in good weather. At the other end of the age scale, several elderly people would like a bench there, and others pointed out that the space was needed for buggies/wheelchairs as the pavement was problematic. My idea was a low wall/bench with herbs planted in a raised bed. That didn't get anywhere though: objections ranged from dogs pooing on the plants to damage to the tree from earth on the roots.

Transition Cambridge's mission is to plant edible things and they only have a small budget. At one point the nice lady from TC asked whether we really want any changes at all? There emerged a growing consensus around some kind of bench, so that's progress! But there's still a way to go to find something that meets everyone's needs.

Fen Skating

The Anchor at Sutton Gault

We woke up early today to find a heavy frost had covered every twig and leaf with a lattice of crystals. It was about -10C in Cambridge and even colder out on the fens. Despite scruples about wasting petrol just to enjoy myself, I packed a flask of hot water, teabags, bananas and a hot cross bun and set off for the nearest place for fen skating which, according to the daily updated  where to skate web page, was Sutton Gault.

The Anchor pub on the Old Bedford River is the landmark for the skating. All it takes is a few inches of water covering the fields, and a good frost, and you have miles and miles of open air, totally free, skating. In the 1850s it was an incredibly popular sport - the champions were celebrities of the day.  Have a look at this history of fen skating and this fen skating video for more info and to get an idea of what it looks like when there are serious skaters on the ice.

 Today it could have been a classic seaside scene: deck-chairs, flasks of tea and sandwiches, people of all ages skating, playing ice hockey, taking their dogs for a walk on the ice. It was only slightly colder - which didn't stop anyone enjoying themselves.

 Everything was stunningly beautiful with the dusting of hoarfrost. The reeds were humming with birds feeding on the seed-heads. Two swans flew overhead. Coots warmed themselves on the sunny bank. A muntjac deer disappeared into the thicket along the path. I took a picture of some exotic looking birds which turned out to be Egyptian geese. 

I'll be back next year with skates as well as a flask of tea.

Cowparsley with hoarfrost

Egyptian geese

Cooking rubbish

It was the recycling open day at the AmeyCespa recycling plant just outside Cambridge, so I went along to have a look. I've always wanted to see what happens to our rubbish  and this is the plant that pocesses it.

From the road all you can see is a large green hangar. And no sign of any rubbish as you drive in and park in a large (clean) field. But as soon as you get near the hangar, a thick, clinging, undefinably unpleasant smell hangs all over.

Inside the main rubbish decomposition hall

Inside the huge hangar was a vast flat mass of rubbish the size of a football field, with high speed conveyor belts bringing more rubbish to one end. I could see the occasional recognizable object, and even some flashing lights from a toy zip past the viewing gallery.

The smell came from the decomposing rubbish - it is kept wet with sprays and heated up so that it rots faster. Behind the thick glass windows of the viewing gallery the smell is mildly unpleasant, but to go into the main hall you have to wear breathing apparatus to filter the fumes. It takes about 4-6 weeks for the rubbish to get from one end to the other of this huge contraption, and by the time it gets to the other end, it's reduced by about 2/3 and is ready to go to landfill.

There were some very strange objects on display that had been fished out of the garbage before getting stuck in the machinery including a large fire extinguishers and a huge anchor.

The landfill site

John Powley presenting prizes for Ready Steady Cook

There was a display of archaeological finds from the site which showed that around the time of the Romans, the place had been used as a settlement with - appropriately - a large rubbish pit.

The bus tour of the site took about 40 minutes (it's huge) and included views of mountains of crisp packets (un-recyclable at the moment), a deodorizing area (to protect local houses), and miles of tangled video tape which seems to get everywhere.



Finally,  I had time to look around the marquees, at all the community groups and council recycling displays. There were recycled wood projects,  and recycled paint (for community groups to use), and tips for reducing food waste. At one end a cooking stand was set up. Before I knew it, I was co-opted into a Ready, Steady Cook competition. The other lady made risotto and omelet, while I made leek and potato soup and ratatouille with rice. We each said that the others' dishes were delicious, but the judge, Leader of Cambridgeshire Council, Councillor John Powley, decided that my leek and potato soup was the winner. My prize was a goodie bag of gadgets, and a nice apron. The food was eaten by the Council staff who'd organised the competition. The official photographer took lots of pictures and I went home promising myself that next time I visit a rubbish plant, I'll be sure to have a shower in the morning and wear smarter clothes.

Spring

This has been an amazing spring. We've had virtually no rain for 2 months -  in March there was 3mm of rain at the Botanic garden - 1/10th of the average March rainfall since 1848. That hasn't stopped the trees from budding, blooming and shooting- it's been a delight everyday. Can it be so much more beautiful than last year? It feels that way.

Apple tree on Adams Road, 9th April

 

Unknown tree on Grange road, April 9th

Pine tree on the allotment, shortly before we cut off the lower branches, 30th April.

 Winter jasmine flowering in the churchyard of Little St Mary's 20th March.

Now there is so much pollen in the air and so little rain, that the cars parked in the streets all look completly dusty with yellow pollen - normal in a big city, where it would be dust, but it looks very strange here.

A Cambridge bike story

The bike parking facilities at Cambridge station are scandalous - thousands of bikes, never enough places to fix your bike to, and hundreds that look abandoned and never move. If you're in a rush, you can easily miss your train trying to find a space to put your bike. They are so crowded together that it's had to see where one bike begins and another ends. Nevertheless it is convenient and free, so lots of people cycle to the station to take the train to London every day.

Mick is one of these people - and he's very hard-working and often comes home late in the evening. One night he arrived back, tired after a long day, ready to cycle home. When he went to unlock his bike some complete idiot had managed to padlock their bike to his.

It was dark and rainy and he was furious. He wrote a note and left it in the other bike's basket. The note read: "You've locked your bike to mine. It's dark. I'm going to have to get a taxi home. Pease be more careful."

The next day when he got home from work he went to look for his bike. On it he found a note that said: "So sorry about your bike. Was in a rush to get the train for the premiere of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight at Covent Garden (absolutely fantastic!). Please accept my apologies."  And enclosed was a £5 note.



Sign in Latin and Greek on the railings of a house in Portugal Street. Did the Romans have 'duae rotae' then?

Valentine's Day Photos

It was a lovely day. The photos are enough - Cambridge was looking at it's best. 

The Wren Library, Trinity

The fountain at the Botanic Garden

Carol Singing

We've been carol singing twice this year: once at a candlelight service at Trumpington church, and then a few days later, the Newnham carol singing in the streets round our neighbourhood.

The snow around the church was still quite fresh and undistrubed. It was dark but the moonlight reflected off the snow gave plenty of light to see by as we walked up the icy path to the church door. I wondered why there was already singing in the church even though we were 20 minutes early - was the choir practicing?

Unfortunately we'd got the time wrong by an hour and the service was in full swing. Three car-fulls of us came, about 10 minutes apart, so we kept disturbing the service as each time the lady ushers had to find carol sheets and candles for the next lot of us to arrive. I got the giggles every time the door opened again for another load of Squires to trail in... But we were made welcome, and we sang heartily. I got there in time for 'In the bleak midwinter' which is one of my favourites, and the reading about the shepherds coming to the stable - so there was plenty more to go. At the end we had mince pies and mulled wine and were very glad we'd come.  There were a few people there that I knew - I'm always surprised at that even though I've been here nearly 8 years so it's not really extraordinary.

The Newnham carols were fun too - numbers swelled by various visiting in-laws (or in my case, Emma). We met at the Co-op at 5pm and sang around our three violins. No money collection - just pure pleasure. It was very cold and dark with snow and ice still making the road treacherous. Lois had put up the sheet music at our 'stations': starting at the Co-op, then the butcher's, down to the bend on Grantchester Meadows and then the tree at the end of Marlowe Road. Two or three carols at each stop - just enough for the fiddlers' finger not to get too cold. We got carried away at the end and sang 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' a few extra time just for fun.  Idefix the dog was there too and paid me the compliment of not attacking my ankles. The brazier, mince pies, flapjacks, and mulled wine were waiting for us at the other end of Marlowe Road - but even that wasn't enough to keep Emma warm in her London coat and thin shoes so we had to make an early escape back to the fire side at 11A.

There was one more carol singing - a short story I read by Laurie Lee about his childhood. He tells  the story of the boys in his village traipsing through miles of snow to the houses of the neighbouring gentry: it's true and unsentimental. 

OAP Swimming

I've started swimming regularly. It's great - a nearby school pool, twice a week, very genteel people, no racing and splashing, just good steady exercise.

It's the University of the Third Age swimming club. I qualify now that I'm over 50. Yes there are some advantages to advancing age. It's possible I'm mistaken but I've got a feeling that Sue and I bring down the average age by a few years. The pool is lovely and warm, and we just swim up and down. Being one of the youngest, I'm also one of the fastest, so it's tempting to feel smug and I have to keep reminding myself that everyone else is mostly over 70. It takes us almost as long to get changed as it does to swim, but that's part of the fun. There's quite a lot of chatting in the changing rooms as most people seem to be neighbours or have been coming for years. It feels like I'm getting an insight into what I'll be doing in 20 years time.

Grandchildren, waiting times for minor ops, and interesting events around Cambridge feature frequently. Someone was recently organising  a collection and a Christmas card to thank the club organisers - you can never plan too far ahead, just a pound or two is fine, for a gift voucher from Scotsdales. This drew a comment from a venerable lady that it's hard work organising the club - week in week out, keeping track of members, money and attendance. Yes said another, it's a lot easier to prepare and give a lecture - I'd rather do that any day than all the work of the club she said. A point of view that wouldn't have ocurred to me!

Seeing Differently

A couple of days ago I went to see the Assembling Bodies exhibition - rather reluctantly as I didn't really think it would tell me much I didn't already know. It turned out that wasn't the point. It was a lot of fun. Mixing anthropology, art, technology and science to look at our bodies from all different angles. Here's just a couple of things that made me laugh.

It's the eyes that caught my attention. The Papuan funerary statue has incredibly realistic snail shell eyes - his gaze is unsettling. The Head of the Blue Chip has two different eyes: one a small camera, the other a large blue eye under which is a video of a real eye, moving and blinking. The camera eye really works: you can see youself on a little screen on the right side of the 'brain'. The blue eye is realistic because it moves, blinks and seems to look at you. But the statue's eyes have a blurred quality that feels to me like the way we look into people's eyes every day - we don't usually stare fixedly at someone's eyes, we just get an impression of them. They are different versions of reality. 

Mariam's holding the cast of a hug! It is the empty space inside of a hug. Such a brilliant idea. We both played around with it, holding it in different positions, trying to find the right 'fit'. It feels cold initially, and rough, and quite heavy. Then it warms up with you, and once you relax and stop feeling idiotic hugging this thing, you can get it into a good position. It feels like it's comforting you.

It made me think of the way that in traditional Iranian towns, the Friday mosque is a space inside the bazaar - it's  not a building with an outside wall and an ornate portal, it's the inside empty courtyard that is important. Where there is silence and stillness and room for prayer.

Open Cambridge

Last week was Open Cambridge - two days in the year when some of the libraries, buildings and gardens in the University and around town, are open to the public. It's an opportunity to see some of the treasures of the town that are normally hidden away.


In Mill Road Cemetery, there are some interesting graves. The 'Friends of Mill Road Cemetery' gave us a tour. They try to keep a balance between keeping areas of wilderness for the wild life, and keeping the graves in good condition and the cemetery a place of beauty and order. The brambles, ivy and self seeding trees do almost as much damage as the kids who take pleasure in pushing over headstones and crosses, and the drug users who leave needles lying around in hidden corners. I was intrigued by this pair of graves built like a Ziggurat. The first headmistress of The Perse Girls School is buried nearby. Her grave is rather untidy, but it is remarkable in that it is the only gravestone for a woman that tells us her occupation (other women's graves just say 'wife of...' or 'daughter of...'). She's buried with her (female) partner.

Protest march with Stephen Hawking

How cool is it to go on a protest march with Stephen Hawking?

About 30 of us (average age 70+) marched along the river bank, rather embarrassed to be chanting "Save our river!" for the benefit of the Anglia news cameraman who turned up for 10 minutes with a large video camera and a plastic mac. Someone made sure that Professor Hawking was in front. The rain let up long enough for umbrellas to be put away and placards held up rather apologetically in their place. Two young policemen stood by the river watching, with an air of making sure that their elderly charges didn't come to any harm.

This is the Cambridge Evening News version of the event.

And today we heard that the planning application for a large extension to the riverside hotel has been turned down. So 30 years after the LSE marches against higher fees for overseas students, I've now been involved in a march that wasn't futile. The Planning Committee, though, didn't give us the credit. They cited breach of "...policies 3/4, 3/7, 3/14, 4/1, and 4/11 of the Cambridge Local Plan 2006 and guidance provided by PPG2 Greent Belts and PPS5 Planning and the Historic Environment." and more along those lines. But I'd rather think it was Hawking and me that did it.

Cambridge to London

Just got back from London - it was a good day with an old friend but it is always good to be back in the quiet of Cambridge.

We saw the Henry Moore exhibition at the Tate. I liked the innocence and exploration of the early sculptures best - especially two called 'Girl'. At the Photographer's gallery, Sally Mann was showing some of her photos of her children, beautiful but also vaguely unsettling in their rather self-conscious innocence. One room had photos called 'What Remains' - pictures of decomposing human bodies.

Also had dim sum in Soho, rode the bus, explored fabric shops in Berwick St and ate Thai durian from a chinese supermarket.

London was very crowded - especially Picadilly Circus when we were going home. I was caught in a heavy downpour at Kings Cross.

By the time we got to Cambridge the sky had cleared and the air felt fresh and earthy. There was a rainbow over the Addenbrooke's building site for the LMB. On my bike it felt good to be free of the traffic. I headed straight for the allotment - the sky above the cricket field was streaked with red and pink cirrus clouds. It was quiet there. Just the distant sound of traffic from the M11 - the wind is in the west, so it should be good weather tomorrow.

Starting out

I love living in Cambridge. I'd like to share some of the things that I hear and see going on around me - things that are odd, admirable, anachronistic, and that make Cambridge special. That's what this blog is for. But I don't promise not to get diverted occasionally onto topics that tickle me.