4 days, 12 pubs. I think that’s about the score so far. I should be in bed, but the shredded remnants of my internal clock still think it’s 3 in the afternoon when really it’s 11pm. But I still wake up at 5 am UK time for some reason… But it’s been a pretty good trip so far, other than for lack of sleep.
My friend Malocolm, who I met whilst living on the east coast, picked me up from Heathrow airport and got me to Cambridge. We quickly set about the important affaires when visiting a foreign land. Pubs. Three pubs may have been a bit much after 24 hours of travel with 2 h sleep, but this is Cambridge after all.
The green Dragon Pub has been my favorite so far.
Quick recap: So I flew in Monday, hit some pubs, went to work for my first day on Tuesday… Ooh, there was a bit o jetlag… Actually, I felt OK (except for a really nasty cough) Monday, but come Tuesday and Wednsday when it matered? Hmm, not so good. I could barely repeat my own name let alone try to remember names and faces of 100 new people. Luckily, I don’t recall much of those two days at this point. It’s like it never happened.
By thursday and Friday, I was starting to feel like me again, which was a nice little bonus to living in England.
My Apartment is fairly small, but very adequate. the washing machine and dryer are one, which is kinda cool. It’s the size of a mini-fridge, though, so I can only fit one pair of pants and a single sock at a time… Speaking of mini-fridge, my fridge here is just as small as the washing machine. Lucky I have a grocery store just around the corner to load up on all my english ales.
Alcohol around here is cheap and plentiful and consumed liberally. I’m not sure much of anything takes place around here without a pint. the local fair is a bit warm and flat. Or seller temperature and still, if you want to be polite about it. They are often straight from a cask and pumped into your glass from a large lever built into the counter at the bar, sort of like getting water from a well. The IPA’s here bare very little resemblance to IPA’s in the U.S., but there is often some very good Belgium variety to be had as well. I do seem to be groing a taste for the local variety, though. I guess practice makes perfect. I have also tried some of the local cider, though it was a collage bar and not a good example of a true cider apparently, which redeemed me in the eyes of my colleagues a bit after I said I didn’t like it…
Now I’m off to enjoy some black pudding.