Saturday, 1 June 2013
The afternoon coach to Cambridge smells of packed lunches and wet umbrellas with hints of musk. It was filled with old couples, carefully folding their rain coats into the overhead luggage holders and oohing and aaahhing at the sights as we passed through London. Four hours of this and I vowed to put the experience behind me and get the 45 minute train forevermore.
The first time I went to Cambridge to visit Stephanie, I had no idea what to expect. But three days of catching up on lost years, walking arm in arm through churchyard markets and playing piano in parks (me- bashing out Chinese Chopsticks, her - ever so gracefully playing some insanely good song that you know you've heard before but dare guess which composer it is).
Pictured: 1. Sights from the coach. 2. Park walks. 3. Cake stalls. 4. Lattes. 5. I can't resist a cute door. 6. My tasteful rendition of Chinese Chopsticks. 7. Stephanie's bloody masterpiece. 8. Me. 9. Choosing our future houses.
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