Oxford v Cambridge - Part 2

After Oxford, Cambridge was better. Smaller, more compact, with less of the modern architecture, or at least better hidden. We started with Kings College which was simply out of this world. I have never been charged £5 to walk around a small nondescript chapel before. Yes it had a Reubens and yes the exterior was magnificent, but you could see the exterior for nothing, and the Reubens wasn’t that good. So visitors tip if you are in Cambridge, take photos of Kings College from the river, and save yourself a fiver.

Part of the problem with Cambridge was we were a bit tired after a lot of sightseeing the previous few days, and the foreign students did not help. There were hundreds of them, in the chapel, in the gardens, in the lanes and on the bridges. This was a particular problem with Matty as teenagers can’t actually see small children in a pushchair, with their parents. Their responsibility chip phases you out, and as a result they kept tripping over Matty: and he got really really annoyed.

Now let me be clear. Matty, and I know I’m biased, is actually a very good little boy – 98% of the time. However when he throws a paddy, he throws a paddy, and this was a Beijing Olympic winning effort. He made so much noise when his mummy disappeared to the toilet that several Spanish teenage girls actually noticed him and starting making what they thought were child placating noises. Unfortunately they were more like the noise you make when you are offering a cat some milk and Matty gave their efforts short shrift. When Ula returned they were so relieved they clapped her!

We decided it was time for lunch. We left Jolka and Mirek to their sight seeing and went to a local café called Tatties – or should I say as they do “the World Famous Tatties”. Having travelled to many parts of the world and indeed lived in Paris, I couldn’t honestly recall a Parisian chef saying “mais oui these oysters and beef bourguignon are magnifique - but you should go to Tatties in Cambridge”, but perhaps I never asked the question.

I am not clear what you have to do to call yourself "World Famous", but on the basis of lunch at Tatties, my guess is it doesn’t involve a Michelin audit. There was nothing wrong with my baked potato and chilli but it tasted like I cooked it. The fresh coffee was more memorable; it tasted like burnt coal and was so bad it made me want to drink the house red, which tasted of nothing at all.

Still, Matty was placated and our Polish friends were happy on their return. They had seen London, Cambridge and Oxford in 4 days and taken about 3 billion photos (including one of my wine rack). In fact they had seen many things, although sadly the sun had not really been one of them.