Lazy Cambridge Days

It's that wonderful time of year. Exams are over, people are gradually emerging from the various bubbles they have been inhabiting in recent weeks, blinking in the early summer sunlight, rubbing their eyes, wondering if it was all a bad dream: and slowly realising that there is both life and alcohol waiting to be embraced. Look at anyone's Facebook status and you will generally see a comment containing the words "over-celebrating" and "apocalyptic hangover". You will also see newly-created photo albums with pictures of people sipping Pimms or fizzy pop somewhere nice and green, or punting down the river Cam, with blue sky and sunshine in the background. It all feels so very Cambridge, so very Brideshead Revisited (which just proves it isn't so very Cambridge after all!).

Garden parties will be starting in a matter of days. Suicide Sunday is fast-approaching (so-called because people get so terribly, terribly drunk: not because they actually try to commit suicide - that would just be silly after putting oneself through all the agony of exams). May Balls will be starting in a couple of weeks. And my time here is drawing to a close. I don't feel quite ready to go. I've felt more at home here than I have done anywhere since I lived in Geneva in the early 90's. I like having my friends less than a minute's walk away, I like the Wolfson squirrels, I like the little love nest that has been mine and Jamie's first home together. I have loved every minute of my time here, and it seems bizarre to think I ever felt I was taking something of a gamble in giving up my old life to give this one a bash.

For the next two weeks, you can rest assured that if I'm not blogging, I am in all likelihood drinking Pimms or wine on a lawn somewhere, probably whilst wearing a floral dress!