Monkeyfilter's Ab-Fab Cantab Confab

Photographness!

We spent most of Saturday touring around Cambridge. Unfortunately, we didn't get many photos. Alnedra was fascinated, however, by the statue of Henry VIII in the gate of Trinity College. Back in the mists of time, some student scamp replaced his sceptre with a chair leg. Apparently, when they recently restored the statue, they carefully replaced the old, rotten, chair leg with an exact duplicate:

After a lot of touring and a lot of drinking in the Eagle (home of the double helix!), we had a very, very nice meal in a very, very nice restaurant. It was lovely.

The Gang. Left to right: djryan, Dreadnought, Weezel, Alnedra, alliterated arithmancer

There was much telling of terrifying ghost stories, but as we walked home through the darkened Grantchester Meadows to Dreadnought and arithmancer's house we found that, contrary to what you might expect, they were not at all creepy. We figured there must something good there.

The Next Day

We woke up bright and early (ok, not that early, and not that bright either) and headed out through Grantchester Meadows into town.

Alnedra communes with the cows. More countryside.
A blurry but highly representative picture. Dreadnought talks and talks and talks, and everybody else suffers gracefully.

We go for a full, English breakfast in a tea house across from King's College.

'Neddy anticipating bacon and sausages and other formerly mammalian foodstuffs. You can't beat the view from this place.
alliterated arithmancer was taking the pictures, on the grounds that we'd therefore not be able to take pictures of him. We did manage to sneak this snap though. Heh-heh-heh! Ah, healthy English breakfast fare!

Soon the shouting of outs begin!

Weezel kicks us off. 'Neddy has apparently decided she's writing with a brush.

Food completed, we retire to Corpus Christi College's "Bachelor's Parlour" (ie. room for graduate students to hang out in)

We draw shoutouts:

The Management would like to apologise for the poor quality of these pictures. It was, you know, dark. And stuff.

And read Mofi:

And draw more shoutouts:

Eventually, a great stack of shoutouts is created.

Alas, it is soon time for non-Cantabridgian Monkeys to leave us.

There is a tearful farewell, tempered only by the knowledge that we would soon see one another online.

Weezel and Alnedra put on a brave face. Dreadnought, off camera, is crying like a spoiled child.

fin