Riding to Ely

Cambridge pulled out the stops this weekend and delivered beautiful autumn weather, a perfect opportunity to explore the countryside around Cambridge on my new 'trusty steed', a used bike I bought from a 3rd year Ph.D. student for £45. Unnamed as of yet, my mauve and white bike has fine rust detailing (just enough to makes it less attractive to thieves), 18 working speeds and a basket that holds two small grocery bags worth of stuff.

So, taking advantage of yesterday's weather, I embarked about 10am on a ride out of Cambridge to Ely, a 'sleepy market town' (according to Frommer's England 2008) that boasts a beautiful cathedral and Oliver Cromwell's house.

From Cambridge, I passed between the towns of Histon and Impington, through the village of Cottenham, skirted Wilburn, finally came into Witchford and Ely. Of all the villages I rode through yesterday, Cottenham was the prettiest ride, with thatched roofs (including one with a peacock thatcher's mark), a town green and a lovely church.

With these villages and the long stretches of farmland that joined them, the journey itself was worth the trip. That being said, I was glad for the weather. At 38 miles round trip, the biking bit took me about 5 hours at a leisurely to moderate pace. Had it rained, I would have been drenched!

Once in Ely, I wandered into the market, had market food (sausage with peppers and onions on a baguette) for lunch, and then headed to the cathedral. Founded as a monastery by the Saxon princess Etheldreda in 673AD, the present building dates from 1081. Sunlight was streaming through the windows and catching in the incense that hung thick in the air from services held int he morning. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

the Octagon, set high above the crossing of the cathedral

sunlight streaming across the presbytery in front of the high altar

the nave, looking toward the choir

Home Sweet Home

I've been in Cambridge for 11 days now and the old house I'm sharing with--at the moment--6 other people and the University Radio Station is starting to feel like home. The house is big, with 12 numbered rooms on two floors (ground and 1st) and the station (which I have yet to see) in the basement. We have shared kitchen and laundry facilities on the ground floor.

The view of the house from the road isn't much (below). There's not much character to the flat face or the plain walls.
However, the view from the road really isn't the important one. The path I normally take is down a path behind the house, the most direct route to my college (a hop, skip and a jump away). Here's approaching the house, just off the gravel road and through the hedge that separates our house from the college's car park:
And now, passing through that nice screen of trees, we get the house, replete with a rose garden near the top of the lovely set of brick steps. It's a terrific spot to read in the late afternoon (I've tested it). My window is just visible below the red roof on the right hand side (between the two trees).
Speaking of trees brings me to one of my favorite things about being here: fruit. In my back yard and throughout the college, many of the trees are fruit trees. As 'members' of the college, we're encouraged to eat as much as we like. There is a bowl in the kitchen overflowing with apples and pears at the moment, and I picked blackberries (which grow in the hedges along some of the bike paths a short ride from college) and had them as a snack with yogurt this afternoon.