A Breeze through Cambridge

12 hours ago

4 min read

We disembarked the Queen Mary 2 around 7am on September 19th and stayed one night in the shabby-chic Elizabeth House Hotel in Southampton before we caught two trains to Cambridge, blessedly drama-free.

Funny, when we asked both the cab driver and the hotel concierge in Southampton, "What do you recommend we see while we're here?" and they both told us to take the bus an hour away to Winchester.

Since two hours on a bus sounded like a drag, we strolled a residential area, found a park with giant oak trees (Southampton Common), and slurped soothing bowls of healing pho. Ahh, head colds be gone. More Southampton highlights: a bottle of Old Speckled Hen in the hotel's basement restaurant/bar (I had the Proper Steak and Ale Pie 😋), and the two breakfasts of sausage rolls and strong black tea at The Nest Café. The sweet, chatty barista gave us a free pastry and wrote "Go Seahawks!" on the bag, evidently happy to meet Seattleites.

Alas, there are no photos of Southampton to share. <sad trombone> Once in Cambridge, we ditched our bags at The Lensfield Hotel (not shabby, and smack on the edge of the town). Then we wended through a cow-strewn fen popular with road bikes, eBikes, cargo bikes, and prams to get to Steve's Aunt Fifi and Uncle Ian's house. Their warm embraces felt like a home-coming. We enjoyed hours of stories and meals. In preparation of winter, we were happy to stash patio furniture, and relocate potted hydrangea. And it was high-time they had anti-skid mats under the rugs on their tile floors; the John Lewis department store has everything. Aunt Fifi is Steve's mother's 90-year-old sister, and known in the academic realm as Felicia Gordon, the celebrated historian of early French feminists. I asked her to let me take a photo of her with one of her books.

In early November while on one of her regular multi-mile walks, an errant labradoodle knocked Fifi down, breaking her leg and low back. Despite this, she can still whip up delectable dinners of lasagna and Carbonnade à la Flamande. Fifi's husband, Ian Gordon is a storyteller, poet, biographer, and professor emeritus of English poetry. He is also a supportive helpmate to Fifi, especially since that dang dog. We also enjoyed catching up with Steve's cousin Clare and her teenage son Finley, who joined us for several meals.

We look forward to more cousin-rendezvous during the last leg of our adventure in London.

We crossed the great Granchester Meadows, poked around the streets and shops in town, and visited two fantastic museums.

Despite the swarm of tourists around the ancient colleges and dense tourist zone (ahem, qui moi?), Cambridge is a neat town to roam, and not just because it's as old as dirt and loaded with history. My camera liked to capture centuries-old architecture and splashes of modernity.

Now about those museums - - -

The Fitzwilliam Museum was one that Steve and his family frequented during childhood summer visits. The first floor is all shining knights' and weapons. Further in, there are great halls of pottery and paintings made by artists from around the globe and across the centuries. All free of charge.

It's beautiful and serene. Especially if you can stay a room or two ahead or behind the twelve-year-old boys, sharply-dressed in school uniforms, losing their minds in the hall of knights and their accoutrements. Steve said he and his brothers felt the same way back then. But even know, I saw him gravitate. I especially enjoyed the rooms of paintings. The painting were arranged thematically, instead of segregated things by artist, era, or style. So it was super cool to see how painters interpreted things - some similarly, some differently - the well-known and/or highly commercialized artists displayed next to obscure and/or relative up-starts. The grand lobby is a mix of ancient marble statues and modern sculpture. Bravo Fitzwilliam!

The next awesome museum was worth every pence we paid for our tickets.

Like another one of my favorite museums (The Sir John Soane's Museum in London), Kettle's Yard initially existed not so much as a museum, but as a private residence of an avid collector who opened the family home to student visitors so they could experience and appreciate such things up close - and leave awash with influence. Kettle's Yard was the home of John Ede, a curator at Tate Gallery. There he befriended many artists whose art he collected.

No matter where you sit or stand in the Ede home, there was art to absorb. Next-level interior decorating. Not cluttered, but - artful. It's marvelous.

I could have lingered longer, especially since visitors are encouraged to sit in the chairs or on the bed (but not to touch the art, ovbs). But since ~eight people were admitted at a time, at some point, there was this sense one needed to move along.

Beyond the walls of the residence is an event space/art gallery with a rotation of contemporary artists - and where Fifi's family hosted her birthday bash in August.

When we left Kettle's Yard, I felt like I had a spa day. Akin to the feeling of speechlessness, I had no compulsion to take photos. Apologies; your loss. But Steve caught me wandering into the Ede bathroom (!!), as if somehow he knew I would be delighted with whatever hung over the loo. I'll be dipped if I can recall what it was - probably a painting of a ship - there were scads of those, and I loved seeing every one. Anyway, I recommend you visit Kettle's Yard if you go to Cambridge. It's a bittersweet thing that our suitcases started out full and heavy, otherwise, I'd have succumbed to temptation in the both museum gift shops. 🤣