Cambridge choo-choo whoopsie-doozie

If you’ve spent time reading any of my other entries, you’ll have learned fairly quickly that I am NOT an actual travel blogger. Far from it, in fact. I frequently forget the names of pubs and restaurants I enjoy, typically am not interested in several attractions on any given ‘Top 10’ list, and am usually traveling to new locations with very minimal preparation. My brief, brief trip to Cambridge is a solid example of my inadequacies in the travel blogging niche. (Although my trip to Bath, UK probably holds the no. 1 spot).

TLDR: There’s not as much of a ‘story’ here as my other entries because my time in Cambridge was so limited. The crux of it all is that Cambridge seems pretty awesome, is worth a day/weekend trip out there and I’d like to go back to spend more time there.

Picture below to break up text. Because I care about your experience here.

My 3 month time abroad had come to a close and I was already missing London. The healthy busyness of the city, the trains, the windy streets rife with pubs, bakeries, and pubs. Not to mention all of the neighborhood markets overflowing with every kind of food from every corner of the world imaginable.

Most of all, I was missing the feeling of adventure and being able to walk, train or fly to something exciting and brand new. And to be able to do so on a whim. So, when a couple of my friends suggested we return to London to watch our beloved Jacksonville Jaguars play the Atlanta Falcons at Wembley Stadium, I couldn’t pass it up.

As we compared travel itineraries, I began to realize that I would have an awkward amount of time where I wouldn’t be able to check into my hotel. Pubs, restaurants, most museums, and pubs wouldn’t be open yet either, and my friends wouldn’t arrive until a couple of hours later than me. I elected to wait, not make any definitive plans and just wing it upon arrival. Besides, I wouldn’t know how I would be feeling following the transatlantic flight and there would always be the risk of flight delays and cancellations and other travel related…quirks, shall we say?

I landed in Gatwick at about 8:00 AM local time and was feeling surprisingly spritely. I attributed it to adrenaline and my excitement for being back in London. And while I had only lived there for a little less than 3 months, I was already feeling a bit like a local. During my 3 months in London, I had become quite familiar with the Gatwick airport due to all of my side travels. One thing I was prepared for upon landing was the long walk from the gate to immigration check. You walk, and walk, and walk, and walk , and walk for ages in Gatwick.

However, on this particular occasion several things happened. First, our flight managed to de-board in about 15 minutes. I’m not exaggerating. I’ve never seen such a speedy de-boarding in my life. Next, our gate was probably the closest gate to the immigration checkpoint possible. Maybe a 5 - 10 minute walk. Then, miraculously, all of the gates and scanners at the checkpoints not only functioned but had relatively short lines and I pretty much walked straight through. Finally, there was the walk to the train station in the airport, which is probably about another 10 minute walk. All in all, I was on the train platform waiting for the next train at about 8:45 AM. That is unheard of in my experience. To be able to land, de-plane, pass immigrations and make it to the platform in 45 minutes total is a marvel I feel I’ll never experience again.

I got situated on the train and started to brainstorm how I would kill some time. While the efficient exit from the airport was welcomed with arms wide open (Creed reference! Ha!), I now had a greater time delta to the arrival of my dear friends. The creepy automated PA system voice began to announce all of the stops the train would be calling at when I heard it, “Cambridge”.

Picture below to break up text. Because I care about your experience here.

I had time to make a decision because my stop was still several down the line. Pulling out my phone, I researched the time it would take to get from Gatwick to Cambridge. About 1 hour and 45 minutes. Considering my stop was about 45 minutes from Gatwick, I chalked it up to just an additional 45 minutes. That seemed ideal to me. It would allow me to visit a cool, new city that I’d heard great things about, kill a bit of time such that pubs, bakeries, and pubs would be open by the time arrived, all while giving me a few hours to explore before my friends landed. And, it would only take me 45 minutes to get back to rendezvous with my pals. It was all coming together. Or so I thought…

As the train thundered down the line nearly giving me a heart attack with every speeding train chugging past in the opposite direction, I heard an announcement over the PA that I didn’t quite understand, and kind of hoped I hadn’t understood it the way I was understanding it. The gist of it was that the train was about to exit the London City Limits and Oyster card fares would no longer be sufficient. I would need an actual ticket. (Oyster cards are basically metro cards that you can pre-load to take trains and tubes around the city. It also allows touch-to-pay with credit cards or Apple Pay).

This was problematic as I'd never gotten off the train since boarding in Gatwick to buy said ticket, and I was unaware that I’d even be going to Cambridge at the time of boarding the initial train. PlAnNiNG. To make matters worse, the PA provided a menu of punishments. One of which was a BIG [Ben] of a fine.

The moment of judgment was upon me as the conductor asked to see my ticket. Trying to be as Canadian as possible so as to not be judged as a ‘stupid American’, I explained my situation and after promising to be on my best behavior and not commit such an egregious fuck up again he allowed me to purchase a ticket from him and avoid the hefty penalty.

As this problem was resolving, another problem had been looming and was poised to make its presence felt. Time. Yes, I had been checking my watch periodically as the train ride continued and we had far surpassed the supposed 45 minutes that it would take for me to arrive in Cambridge. Only then did I realize my mistake.

(This actually happens to be a good travel tip). See, when I had punched in the duration on Google Maps, I had failed to specify the train that I was on. Instead, I had only looked at the fastest route to Cambridge, which would have put me on a train with far less stops. Of course, being able to see the fastest route is often the desired and most helpful use case for Google Maps, but there are times in travel where you’ll want to heed some of the contextual specifics.

I started counting down the number of stops until Cambridge but soon realized it was pointless, as further out in the country the distance between stations is more varied and often far greater than that of hubs nearer to London.

With one stop to go until Cambridge, the scenario I had feared came to fruition. I received a text from my friends indicating that they had landed and were ready to “glug some pints”. Knowing that they would still need to get off of the plane, finish all other airport business and train to their hotel, I still had some time to work with. They had also flown into Heathrow, which meant a longer, more complex transit situation to get to their hotel. My travel-logistics-math, which was far beyond trustworthy at this point, left me with about 2 hours to play with.

Before I get to some pictures, activities and thoughts on Cambridge, I’ll share some lessons from this.

1. Oyster card does not work everywhere. If you’re training somewhere, check to see if you need to purchase a separate ticket. (Often times this will be far more obvious than the situation I found myself in).

2. Google Maps is very useful, but pay attention when you use it. Sometimes the quickest route isn’t always what’s most practical or what you’re looking for in a particular moment.

3. If you do happen to find yourself in trouble, BE AS CANADIAN AS POSSIBLE.

One of the things that’s really fun and great about some of these smaller towns is that you hop off the train, and a lot of the time, you’re already right in the heart of it all. I exited the station and set out to explore the city. The first stop was to a pub that came highly recommended, The Eagle.

As I walked through the charming, Harry Potter-feeling town I imagined myself in an alternate life. One where I was smart enough to attend Cambridge and was a bonafide genius. I’d graduate and join a racket club or social club and ridicule the poor dunces who had to settle on a second-tier institution like Oxford. My wife and I would sip gin and tonics in our rose-filled garden while our children, Nigel and Evangeline played croquet in their Sunday best.

My day-dreaming came to a halt as I sipped my pint at the outside terrace of The Eagle pictured above and began eavesdropping on the table of college students sitting at the corner table depicted in the upper right corner of the photo above. They were crushing gin and tonics at 11:00 AM! “I really WOULD have been great at Cambridge”, I thought to myself. I listened in more. They were talking about classes and notes and theories and theses. NERDS! We were nothing alike at all! Boogie, posh, nerdy losers! I polished off my pint and set on my way.

I continued my exploration eager to see some of Cambridge’s campus. Eventually, I got lost in part of the campus and couldn’t figure out how to get out. I’m not going to lie. I was pretty embarrassed and the whole experience adequately articulated that I was indeed not smart enough to get into Cambridge. (Ironically, getting into Cambridge was easy. It was getting out that had me baffled). Slightly defeated, and slightly buzzed, I eventually escaped that gorgeous institutional prison and began to head back towards the station down an alternate route.

As I got closer and closer to the station I stumbled upon a pub that looked pretty cool, and seeing as to how I was already late. I decided to stop in for one last pint before taking the train back to London. Sadly, this pub did not stay open long as it closed several months after my stopping in.

In closing Cambridge is absolutely worth the trip. It’s similar to Bath except with a bit more of a college town vibe (because it is) and with more of a Hogwarts feel (though I’m told most of that was actually filmed at Oxford).

If you’re deciding between Bath and Cambridge, I would lean towards Bath, but I also was able to spend far more time there. I look forward to my next trip to Cambridge and will happily report back with new findings when the time comes. Ta ta.