Cambridge: Psychedelic Penguins, Dung Heaps and Punts on the Cam

The following day I decided to take a train back into Cambridgeshire and visit that fusty old cultural mishmash, which is of course, Cambridge itself.  The city is well known across the world for its academic standing, but it actually took its name from the river Cam.  In fact the name “Cambridge” is a conflation of two words Granta-brycge which simply means to cross or to pass water, which countless generations of students have being doing ever since. In fact many, even today, have to utilise the city’s countless bridges to access the castle-likes Halls on the other side of the river. The Cam actually serves as a huge moat, now populated with students taxiing tourists past the many colleges. An elderly gentleman informed me that at this time of year there are a lot of “punts on the Cam”.... or at least that’s what I hope he said.  

        The history of Cambridge obviously pre-dates the University as it was once occupied, like much of the UK, by the Romans. The Romans, however, were not happy with the area mainly because of the marsh lands that surround it. Apparently in the summer lots of midges used to skate across the Fens and look for dark crevices in which to nuzzle, and for wearers of togas this presents certain predicaments. Although, it is recorded that the main reason they left is that they found the winters insufferable; especially those sub-zero winds that circulate around the Baltics, not to mention the frost off the Fens.  However, frosty gales and itinerant midges didn’t deter the hairier and more robust Anglo Saxons from muscling in, who came equipped with furs and lagged sporrans.

        Trade flourished, especially in the sale of Roman souvenirs and artefacts; a cottage industry was founded selling land-fill to passers-by (a tradition which still continues to this day). Stalls would be spread with all sorts of potions and ointments left over from the Roman occupation, as well as sentimental bric-a-brac like Roman noses, miniature togas, gladiatorial cod-pieces and Coliseum snow-globes.  However, opportunities to make a buck diminished as many of the neighbouring areas rose in prominence establishing fresh competition in terms of trade. Also many tourists were deterred by rumours spread about of the marshlands being unsafe, due to poisonous fungi and carnivorous fish that were reputed to nibble at a gentleman’s unguarded areas. As a result the local economy went into decline, as did the standard of life in Cambridge, prompting Bede to describe the city as “a bit of a turd” in his   Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum (C.731).

        Nevertheless undeterred by the economic slump the Vikings took full advantage of all the vacant properties, empty taverns and unfrequented bordellos. The Norseman brought with them many new fangled ideas, lots of pointy hats and accents that resembled someone drowning in porridge.  They were also quick to impose Dane Law in 878 which dictated that nobody was permitted to drop litter, speak Welsh, gargle with animal urine, or eat sausages on Tuesdays.  However, all these restrictions proved far too draconian for the people of Cambridge, who subsequently expelled their Norse taskmasters. This of course was followed by a welcoming in 1066 of the French after their victory at Hastings. William the Conqueror, known as “the bastard” by those who loved him, showed his gratitude by building extensively and erecting all sorts of Frenchy type things. He even built yet another castle, conveniently I may add, on knoll already called “Castle Hill” which of course rendered the Norman occupation somehow fated and inevitable.  

         In 1209 Cambridge University was established by a group of students who had been thrown out of Oxford, apparently for interfering with geese and smelling like puréed hogs’ farts. These noisome individuals (who have set the standard for students across the UK ever since) were actually honoured by having the first Cambridge College named after them. Peterhouse or Potus Housen (n: “tiny closet”) established the teaching of the core subjects for that time, which were basically: rhetoric, theology, history, mathematics, cottaging and taxidermy.

       However the sanitation and general perfume of the city were improved with the onset of the Black Death in 1349. The plague claimed the lives of many students and academics and even lead to many of the city’s pubs, greasy-spoons and brothels to close, albeit momentarily. Unfortunately, countless records regarding the spread of the epidemic are now lost, but it is known that many of the colleges did suffer considerably. In fact 1349’s “Fresher Fair” saw many of the usual popular student societies hit quite hard in terms of recruitment.  For example, over twenty scholars at one college died wiping out the Men’s Tiddly-Winkers in one fell swoop and other societies also fell by the wayside due to loss of key personnel. The Girton College Gurning Society, (lost all 12 members) the Universty Men’s Flatulists, (known affectionately by the townsfolk as the “Fitzwilliam Farters”) and the Queen’s College Origamists all folded.

       The city’s fortunes rallied somewhat, historically at least, when it was established as one of the most important centres during the Civil War, as well as Oxford of course.  Cromwell fortified the town against any Royalist incursion, destroying many bridges and closing numerous haberdasheries and pie-shops. He also amassed huge dung heaps to fester in the mid-day sun in the hope the stench would deter any incursions by Royalist forces. In 1644 the King’s army came within two miles of the city, but the aroma was so pungent that many fled with their silk hankies pressed securely to their faces for fear of fainting.  However, Cambridge, being a university town, suffered little from the excremental heaps as it had become fairly anaesthetized to the yearly influx of the pungent into its midst.    

         Perhaps the trippiest event in the history of the city was the influx of multi-coloured penguins in the mid 18^th century. These had decided to leap off a Norwegian schooner, carelessly parked on Arbury Road (after heavy rains no doubt), and generally left the city covered in an oily residue and smelling of fish-heads.  Apparently the penguins took on a psychedelic sheen due to certain spillages and the reflection of the sun on their oil-replete plumage. It’s a little known fact that the college of Pembrook was established to commemorate this event, deriving its name from the Latin Pingus Fabula which simply means Penguin breech.

        Today, however, the city is a renowned tourist centre with undoubtedly a world famous University. The list of academic luminaries is certainly impressive, attended by some strange anecdotes which I’ve unearthed or “unarchived” from the College annals. For example, John Milton (1608-74) was a student of Christ’s College and was a prominent member of the Ukulele Appreciation Society. Charles Darwin (1809-1882) was also a student of Christ’s College and apparently spent much of his time alone just observing his fellow students, which some say inspired his seminal work On the Origin of Species. Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593) attended Corpus Christi College had an enormous collection of Swedish porn and used to entertain his tutors with humorous bird impressions. William Pitt (1759-1806) was often drunk, inappropriate, lewd and ill-treated his servants which earmarked him for a career in the Tory party from the outset. Isaac Newton (1642-1727) was a student at Trinity College and would annoy his fellow students by dropping the content of his fruit basket from his dormitory window and making strange whooping sounds in the night. He also drank heavily with the Real Ale Society and whilst compiling his Philsosphiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica would often enjoy the company of the Trinty Tumblers and the Buckingham Belchers.  

        As regards tourist attractions and distractions, the city boasts of many opportunities for the visitor to while away an hour or two.  It is awash with restaurants, cafés, snorkelling clubs, angling opportunities and cream teas.  And for the more discerning visitor there are museums aplenty, all open to the public: the Cambridge Museum of Belgian Lithographs, The Fitzwilliam Collection of Flemish Tapestries and the Pembrook Collection of Feminist Abstract Crochet and Needlepoint. Although the pierce de résistance has to be the wonderful Museum of Natural History which houses a collection of many exotic fauna and creatures, all from Darwin’s voyage to South America;  these include the oozle fish, the woogle-plumed tum-tum bird and the lesser-spotted-kok-wobler.

       Enough excitement for one day methinks...