So, a couple of weekends ago the PO was back in good old Blighty. The BW had school on the Saturday, so our time together was limited to the Sunday. The Mother Superior, kind soul that she is, suggested that rather than lose half the day travelling, we could meet somewhere half way between the gothic mansion she shares with the Laughing Buddha, the BW and his scrumptious siblings, and the townhouse that has been home to the Principal and the Recluse for almost the last twenty years, where the PO was staying.
What a nice gesture, you are no doubt all thinking to yourselves. And the PO would no doubt agree with you, were it not for the fact that the convenient halfway house suggested by the MS was none other than...
Da, da, daaaaaaah...
Cambr-
Cam-
C-
No, I can't bring myself to write it. I shall just have to continue referring to it as The Other Place.
Naturally, the PO could not turn down the MS's offer, which had no doubt been made in all innocence. Nevertheless, he doesn't mind admitting that it was with a certain trepidation that he set off with the Principal on the Sunday morning. After all, what would he do if the unthinkable were to happen and the BW were to take a particular liking to the place ? How would he go about breaking it to the BW that - and please, take his word for it, there really is no other was of saying this : that there was something in his ardour for Cam-... for The Other Place, that was frankly unnatural ? After all, the PO, the Recluse and the Principal are all good, solid Oxford men, through and through (especially the Principal), and, harsh though this might sound, were the BW to take his flirtation with the Dark Side to its ultimate conclusion and actually choose to go and study at... The Other Place - well, then the PO would have no option but to disinherit and disown him.
Nor did things augur well upon our arrival in Cam-... The Other Place. The sun was shining, Market Square was (how original !) teeming with market stalls, people were smiling, buskers were busking. I mean, I ask you - can one not even rely on rain in this godforsaken place ?
Having eventually located the Mother Superior, BW, Button and Schmoo, we went (naturally) for coffee and cake, before heading to the FitzWilliam, which the PO has to admit is a quite impressive museum for such an inconsequential provincial town, although the attempt made by the extraordinarily officious security guard to confiscate the PO's rucksack (an attempt, you will be glad to hear, he shrugged off with the disdain it deserved) did not add a great deal to the experience.
Just as we arrived, a rather pleasant chamber concert of music for violoncello and piano was about to begin, so the PO, BW and Principal settled down for that while Schmoo dragged his mother off for the first of a series of tours of the display of weapons and armour. Meanwhile, the impact of the choice of programme for the concert was somewhat undermined when the museum curator admitted rather gushingly that she "hadn't realised there were so many women composers" - by searching through some five centuries of music, the performers had indeed come up with enough pieces to fill a programme that lasted barely an hour.
After the Fitzwilliam, it was of course time for food. Sandwiches first...
Followed by ice cream...
And then we wandered slowly down to the backs... where we watched people mess about in boats... and saw bulldogs in bowlers and monks with digital cameras...
Where the BW made fun of the PO's penchant for symmetrical pictures.. where Schmoo ran a lot... and where the BW induged his sibling, as he always does...
And where a sinister group followed us wherever we went...
Another near-perfect day with the BW and his siblings. Of course, it could have been perfect, if only we hadn't been in The Other Place...
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