Cambridge Revisited II

The short version: Next time I'm taking the car.

The long version:

Preliminaries: Some dude writing in the Torygraph the other day reported that he'd nicknamed his Toyota Yaris Verso 'Katie', because

she looks quirky and mischievous, as a Katie should.

Any Katies or Katie-sympathisers reading this might be less pleased with the comparison [and I'd like to know whether you find it pleasing in the first place] when you note that the people at Parkers describe it rather less sympathetically as looking like

the hatchback of Notre Dame.

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Anyway, to business. I went back to Cambridge this weekend, to partay with some college friends. It was jolly jolly, but felt distinctly less like a pilgrimage this time and more like a visit to a place where I'd spent some pleasant times but was happy - or at least prepared - to move on from. Which is good, I think, except that it then brings into doubt those of my plans that involve me going back there. I don't think there's any reason I shouldn't go back, though - it's a very amenable place to be - just as long as I don't try to relive my misspent youth. Heh.

L'anyhoodle, the lesson of the trip was 'take the car next time'. To explain, let's compare my actual journey with how it might have been by car:

1. By car: I decide to leave at 12:30, walk 20 minutes back to where the car's parked, and arrive home around 4:00. Admittedly I'm not able to read, devote all my attention to admiring the scenery, or regard my fellow travellers beadily. It costs perhaps £20 in petrol for the round trip, plus some non-specific expenses for wear and tear.

2. By train: I decide to leave at 12:30, and spend 20 minutes walking back to where Emma's car's parked to retrieve my stuff. I decide to walk to the station rather than join Sarah and Laura in a taxi, and meet them there at 1:10. We take the 1:15 train to King's Cross, arriving there at 2:05 having availed myself of tea from the trolley, and wondered why it is that there's space for a trolley in the aisle of a WAGN train but not a First Great Western. We part at the tube station and I take a tube (complete with atmospheric flautist) to Paddington, arriving there at 2:25. I wander the concourse and streets for a while, before boarding the 3:03 train to Bristol. I discover that my iPod has a battery life, from 'fully charged' to 'empty, and I mean it this time' of about 2.5 hours. Which is pretty hopeless, especially when I'd been hoping to screen out the noise of the woman opposite's dreadful compilation album - some kind of Now That's What I Call A Tasteless Racket, with three extra helpings of Eminem, to which she listens at what must be a horrendous volume all the way home. Thanks to engineering works we have to go the long (and, admittedly, scenic) route through central Wiltshire, and change at Bath. It should therefore take 105 minutes to get there rather than the standard 90; in fact it takes 125, thus bringing me into Bath at 5:08, two minutes after the train (also delayed) that I needed to catch. It takes 20 minutes for the departure screens to show anything so far in the future as my next train, which is then revealed not to be scheduled until 5:58. I call Mum to see if she's willing to come and pick me up (about 25 minutes' drive each way), which she isn't, but does agree to meet me at our station (about 5 minutes' drive, saving me a 20 minute walk) when I get there. (In the event, she sends Dad). Anyway, there I am wandering Bath, which as you know is something I do often anyway, but it's less than optimal with a rucksack, sleeping bag, no company, and cold hands thanks to having lost a glove in Cambridge. The train arrives at 6:05, so I reach our station at 6:15 and get home at 6:25. Round-trip cost (not including tea): £35.60 plus some non-specific proportion of the cost of my railcard.

Admittedly, benefits of the train are that I have time to muse on various matters, such as...

a) has that woman brought her PowerBook for a reason, or just to look good?
b) should I be concerned that a lot of the places on our route are immediately associated in my mind with traumatic events? Southall: rail crash. Ladbroke Grove: rail crash. Hungerford: massacre.

... and to engage in sightseeing activities, such as...

c) noting more evidence that Wiltshire is actually rather beautiful.
d) and that the Westbury cement works can be seen for miles.
e) and that everything in the immediate vicinity is powdered with grey dust.
f) and seeing two white horses (of the hillside variety) that I hadn't knowingly seen before - Westbury and another near Marlborough.
g) trying to spot Katherine's house above the Limpley Stoke Valley (cf. New Year)

... not to forget ...

h) finishing Mort

... and ...

i) getting to travel on an electric train again, with the groovy sound effects and minimal localised air pollution.
j) noting that it's a good job First Great Western are going to put new engines into the HST125 fleet, since they produce huge plumes of blue-grey smoke even at standstill, whilst all you see from a Virgin Voyager or FGW Adelante is a bit of heat haze.

So, that's maybe 3.5 hours and £10 Bun-Shop-to-door by car, nearly 6 hours and £17.80 by train. Not a decisive victory for the car, especially since I knew all along that it would be slower and more expensive to go by train but had chosen to do so for ethical reasons if no other, but enough to encourage me to give the car a try next time.

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Response to comments:

Becca: there are car parks, though they're expensive of course. Better yet, my friend Stephen has a house with parking, albeit 20 minutes' walk from the city centre (which is fine). Took me a while realise that since I'm not in statu pupillari I'm free to drive a car in the city centre if I so choose and the University can't do anything about it. Muahaha. That said, I could confess to having driven Mum's car from Peterhouse to Christ's when she came to visit once. But I'd better not. The way I read the statutes, mind, your parents aren't even allowed to give you a lift, because students aren't meant to use or cause to be used any motorised vehicle except a taxi, or something.

Sherry: M4 & M11 is the obvious route, but since I find motorways very dull I prefer to use A-roads; there's a reasonably direct route from Swindon via Oxford, Milton Keynes and Bedford that only takes around three hours even with me driving. I shall have a look at your alternative though.

Alex: hmm?

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So, having finally made it home at 6:25 I was out again by 7:20. Intrepid explorer that I am. Shula and I went to see Good Night, and Good Luck, and had the cinema to ourselves. It was jolly good, though at several points I thought I could smell cigarette smoke and wasn't sure whether it was coming in through the ventilation or was some kind of psychological effect of seeing so much of it! It struck me as a little unfair that those in cities, who can walk to the cinema in 15 minutes or so, also pay rather less for their ticket than those of us who have to drive 45 minutes to get there in the first place. Ho hum.

Now then, I'm sure I'm meant to be doing something important...

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I'd been wondering why I wasn't getting Click emails. Turns out my setting had reset themselves, so I've just been to reselect the 37 [ulp!] email lists I want to subscribe to...