New York, New York

It's about 9am in the morning. I'm sitting in my room in Brooklyn. I've just got back from a walk across the Brooklyn Bridge into Manhattan. It's sunny. It's 23C already. I'm rapidly realising that whatever weight I put on through diet this summer, I'll probably perspire off due to heat exhaustion at an even great rate. And with such thoughts, so begins my month long American tour of duty.


I arrived in New York yesterday afternoon at about 2pm after getting into the airport at noon and having the most trouble free trip through immigration and customs I've ever had. Unfortunately, soon after I got here one of the most impressive thunder storms I've been in in a while descended upon the city and with it showing no signs of abating, I decided that, when combined with my jet-lag and general lack of sleep deprivation, it was probably best just to stay in my room and get myself sorted. So that's just what I did, eventually going to sleep at 6pm and waking up at 7am this morning, hence my early morning stroll over to Manhattan.

A stroll that I'm about to repeat in fact, although this time complete with suited attire, which I imagine is going to be highly unpleasant, both for myself and those unfortunate enough to come into contact with me. I'm spending the next two-days interning with Judge Koeltl in the courthouse here in New York in lower Manhattan. I also need to buy a phone, so it's going to be a busy couple of days before I head off down to Washington DC on Wednesday to spend the rest of July interning in the office of Congressman Gus Bilirakis.

Should be fun!

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

Yesterday I made the transition from being an undergraduate to being a graduate, the result of a journey I started just under four-years ago, and looking back, I couldn't have imagined just where it would lead - just over four-years ago I thought I was going to be reading Economics

People who've been here before say that the University years are the years of our lives, and I know what they mean. Everything that's happened in the past four years has been part of one amazing experience, and despite the ups and the downs, I wouldn't change any of it for the world. Whether it's cycling through Holland towards a destination unknown, late night essay writing, posing with tourists for their photos, sliding out of a corner in a kart, talking with friends, whether things are mundane or extraordinary, they all add up to one tremendous period of living that I'll always look back on with pleasure, and yet also probably a misplaced wish that I'd done more with, and made more of, my time here.

I remember writing when I left Utrecht just under a year ago that you never appreciate things until they're gone, and it's still as true as ever. It doesn't seem two minutes since my parents drove away from Cripps Court of the first time as I waved goodbye standing on the corner. But in the four years since then I've gone from being 18 to 22, I've spent a year abroad, and I've made friends who'll last a lifetime. And yet, despite the past four-years being so life changing, they feel almost as if they never happened.

And so, yesterday was graduation day; the day that my time at University has slowly been edging towards.



I remember seeing a group of people graduating in my first-year and remember just how far-away and incomprehensible the whole thing seemed. Yet yesterday, at 9:15 I found myself lining up on Old Court lawn to do just the same thing, have the group photo taken, and begin the walk down to the Senate House.


It was all over so quickly, Just enough time to worry about standing in the wrong place, tripping or stumbling, and then, it's done and you're clutching your certificate and walking out of the door – a student no more. Everyone looked splendid in the whole get up and it did feel like a special day. When there's so much pomp and ceremony at University it cane be hard to separate the ordinary from the extraordinary, but looking back ever after a day, I know it's a day that will stay with me for the rest of my life; and the fact that so many photos were taken of it proves that much.




But it, or rather I, left so much unsaid. People have been leaving Selwyn for over a week now; either going home or on to other things, and there have been people who left before I got a chance to say things that I really should have done. But yesterday really brought that home. It's always felt a bit strange saying goodbye at the end of term, knowing it'll be at least six weeks until you see some people again, but this time, in many cases, goodbye meant just that. I'm not going to wake up in Selwyn a student again. I'm not going to be able to cross the corridor or the courtyard to say hello. And I'm not going to bump into friends in all manner of places. Of course, it's been coming for four-years, and the same thing happened in Holland last year, but the speed with which it's come in the last few days has left me a little speechless. There's always more to say and do, but I can't help but wonder what I left unsaid at the end.

I'm conscious of how negative that sounds, and it's not meant to be. Selwyn has been my life for four-years now, and to leave so suddenly can't be anything other than jerking. But I'm really looking forward to what comes next. Deep down I think I'm ready to leave University, and those who know me will well know I've been saying it for long enough. I love Cambridge and the people there, but I'm ready to leave being a student behind, for the time being. No, I can't have the time back, but I can enjoy the time I had, and I can make the most of the times to come.



So, my slider has been set to 'out' for the last time. My pigeon hole will soon be no more. But at least I'm confidant that Selwyn has been left in the most capable pairs of hands I know.

Here be graduands

It's an often made remark here that Selwyn is so stingey, you only get a free meal when you arrive, and again when you leave. But regardless of the motive, the other day was the Graduands' Dinner; the final occasion for the graduating cohort to be together as a year-group before graduation day itself.

Because I took a year out, I'm effectively in the wrong graduation year, but the third-years have been so welcoming that it hasn't really felt like it, and there are still a number of fourth-years around to complete the picture. Even more came back for the dinner; both Sacha and Lottie came back from their two-years in Paris to celebrate along with the rest of us, and a lovely night it was too,

The evening started with a leavers' service in the College chapel – the first time I've been inside in quite a long time – which managed to bring tears to the eyes when it ended with the singing of Jerusalem. It's just one of those hymns that can evoke an emotion response without even trying – a really beautiful choice to finish with. We then had drinks in the Master's Garden before heading into Hall for the dinner.

The meal itself was good, and it was really nice to be able to sit down and take some sort of stock of things while catching up with friends who I haven't seen for far too long. At the end of meal, Dr Tilby, the senior tutor, got up and gave the graduands' speech, and while it's now hard to remember exactly what he said it was a really fitting end to our time at Selwyn.

Domesitcated Lawyers

Us lawyers are a friendly, and notorious, bunch. There's apparently something quite sinister about seeing us all together, and we have a tendancy to steer any conversation we have towards law, even if we're talking to non-lawyers. Call it a character defect. But it doesn't stop us doing things with each other both socially and academically.

On Wednesday Janet O'Sullivan invited us to her house for dinner. She lives in a village called Littlebury near Saffron Waldon, so we all hired a taxi to drive us over for the evening, and the fact that we didn't leave until about 1:15 in the morning seems to suggest that things went well!

Her house is really lovely, dating from the 16th century and the reign of the Tudors, it's complete with original Tudor roses in the plasterwork, original wooden ceiling beams and all those uneven walls and floors that make a house a home. Both her and her husband were wonderful hosts for the evening and cooked a really tasty dinner for all of us – even if her son refused to come down the stairs after a bit of a disagreement between them earlier!

It was nice to get out of University for the evening, and even more so to do it with the people I live with there. One of the disadvantages of living in Halls is simply that you don't get to go home at the end of day. Home is university. So going to Janet's house was a nice opportunity to be sociable away from the trappings of University. Hopefully it'll become a yearly event for the other years to appreciate when they find themselves as graduands.

The Ball

Saturday was an eventful day. At 9:00 Amy and I set off for the Senate House to read the boards and pick up our final result. At 9:30 we found ourselves in Starbucks waiting for the Senate House to open at 10:00. At 10:00 we found ourselves waiting for the caretaker to arrive to open the gate. At 10:30 we finally got in. And at 10:50 we finally saw what we'd been waiting for. Four-years condensed into a “J. E. Connah (SELWYN)” in a list of the other 208 final year lawyers. But it was worth waiting for.

Admittedly the rest of the day is something of a blur now. After finding all the others and talking for ages, I headed into town to meet up with Clare for lunch, before meeting Jon on his attempt to ride from Norwich to Penzance for a second lunch. After that it was time to leave College after being evicted for a security sweep prior to Selwyn's first May Ball in about ten years.

The Ball had a bit of a bad press beforehand, and I left it to the last minute before buying my ticket. After hearing people's stories from the other Balls and realising that it would be the last time to do something like this with friends, I picked up my ticket and donned my black tie attire for what I guess will be the last time for quite a while.

And I think it turned out to be the best £107 I've spent in quite some time. They did such a great job of dressing up the College and it seemed so much better than an ordinary May Ball.



Perhaps it was the people there, or the fact that there were so many familiar faces, or perhaps it was because it was Selwyn, or perhaps it was the situation and circumstance in being a lot of people's way to say goodbye as for those not graduating it was their last night in College before the summer. But whatever the reason, the whole evening was really fun and a lovely way to celebrate finishing.

Aside from the usual Ball things, there was an array of inflatable attractions including a bungee run, gladiator-style dueling and even a blow-up Lazerquest.



Clive Anderson even came back to Selwyn to be an auctioneer for the evening to raise money for Selwyn. Seriously, the money that some people apparently have, and the ease with which they seem to spend it beggars belief some time, but I guess it's all good for the College.


I even got a chance to inhale some helium balloons at about 4:00 in the morning.

So, all in all, a lovely evening and one that I wish I hadn't been so sceptical about beforehand. Everything was planned really well, and aside from a few delays, the whole evening went off without a hitch. Even if they did order in far too many croissants for breakfast.

Apparently there's talk of making the Ball bi-annual after it went so well. If they do, all I can say is, I'll be there.

A Taste of London

It's funny, until this term I'd never really have called or described myself as a 'foodie'. I enjoyed cooking and eating, but not seriously. Then of course came Midsummer House and the £100+ meal. Now, with this as well, I'm having to reassess.

After the meal at Midsummer House, I didn't think much could top it, but I have to confess that the Taste of London festival in Regent's Park in London did just that.

After spending the night with Stuart and Stef in London and catching up with them over a Chinese take-away and a film, the next day I made my way to Regent's Park to meet up with Kostia and sample some of the supposedly finest food on offer in the Capital. And it didn't disappoint. Despite threatening to rain the whole afternoon, it held off and we spent the afternoon wandering around the Park and taking in the things on offer. I don't really feel qualified to pass judgment on the various qualities of meals costing in excess of £100, but I have to say that I think I preferred much of the food on offer at the Taste of London.

The set-up was such that you brought vouchers to be spent at the Festival, and there were about thirty restaurants there all cooking three of their dishes in small portions – although, truth be told, I thought the helpings were pretty generous and certainly didn't go away feeling short changed. There were plenty of other stalls offering free samples or smaller places offering refreshments or the brands you can sometimes find in the supermarkets.

Unfortunately I'm now bereft of my menu card and can't quite remember what I decide upon, but I did get about nine courses for £30, which doesn't strike me as bad value at all ranging from pig's trotters and pig's head to chocolate fondues via numerous free samples of yoghurts, mueslis, soups, fruits, smoothies, cold meats and fruit juices. I even got to stand about a metre away from Gary Rhodes, to see a presentation by Hugh Fernley Wittingstall, and to attend a cookery demonstration by a completely sozzled Anthony Wirral Thompson, which was something to behold. I also bumped into Richard Bertinet whose bread course I went on in June last year in Bath, and who, to my amazement, recognised me across his bread demonstration tables. But alas, make bread I did not.

Of course, the whole thing was much more relaxed that Midsummer House, and perhaps that's what appealed all the more – while Midsummer House was a great evening out, this was more of a sedate day event. They apparently hold them all around the world, so who knows where I might come across them again?

Indiana Jones and The Final Insult

If memory serves, the last time I felt moved to write about a film on this blog was about a year ago after I saw Spiderman 3, where I only just managed to prevent myself walking out after about ten minutes. Well, last night a group of us went to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, and I have to say that I practically cried at what they'd done to one of the most iconic of film franchises.

There was only one single redeeming feature of the film, about five minutes in where they kick Indiana Jones out of the boot of the car at the US base and as he stands up (after picking up his hat) he's silhouetted against the car door wearing his fedora. If the film had ended there it would have been perfect, but sadly everything from there on just served to make it worth less and less.

Apparently the original title for the film was 'Indiana Jones and the Saucer Men from Mars', and in a way it would have been a whole lot better if they'd stuck with it. It captures the awful B-movie nature of the film perfectly. Clearly they had fun making it, but it might have been better if they'd spared a thought as to whether the audience would have fun watching it. Just before release, Lucas remarked: "We're all going to get people throwing tomatoes at us. But it's a fun movie to make." And therein lies the problem he apparently didn't spot - what does it matter if it was fun to make, if it's not fun to watch? I can't imagine the Monty Python crew, for example, being so short sighted.

Honestly, the audience were laughing at so many points at the ridiculousness of it all. It's almost as if the us of computer effects has killed the industry - what was with the beavers and the ants? Older films didn't suffer for not having animals do what we want them to do, precisely because animals don't do what we want them to do. As soon as computer effects make the impossible possible, then the whole effect is lost. The splash of mud from the car chase on the camera breaking the fourth wall was a case in point - what was the point in that? It's not as if the film was believable enough that we actually thought it was real in the first place.

The best thing about the first three Indiana Jones films was that there were intentionally funny, but this one wasn't funny when it should have been, and was painfully awful when it should have been funny. Calling a character 'Mutt' who then swings through the trees with monkeys? Having Indiana Jones, who ends up in a nuclear blast zone, survive by getting into apparently the only fridge strong enough to withstand the blast and then emerge unscathed after a trip several hundred metres through in the air while still being hopelessly close to the blast. The magnetism that seemed to come and go as it became useful. The laughable falls down three waterfalls. The fact that the plinth on top of the Aztec pyramid fell much further down than it could have done given the fact that it rested on the sand that poured out. Oh, and yes, did I mention the aliens?

What on earth? I'd hoped that a night's sleep would have let me cool down a bit, but I'm actually angry about this film. How two people as well known and apparently as sensible as Lucas and Spielberg could ever have thought it was a good film, a fitting compliment to the first three, is completely and utterly beyond me. They waited almost twenty years to make this film to get the script right. I suspect there are plenty of people out there, like me, who wish they hadn't bothered.

But at least it confirmed one thing; going to the cinema is much more about who you go with rather than what you go and watch.

A Midsummer Extravagance

There are not many things that make my eyes water, but I will admit that a food bill for £226.13 for two is one of them.


Last night, Kostia (a second-year lawyer here at Selwyn) and I ventured to Midsummer House, the two-Michelin starred restaurant here in Cambridge alongside the river by Jesus Green, as a sort of post exam splurge, us having realised that each other was something of a foody (albeit an armchair foodie in my case). So, feeling slightly awkward and not quite sure of what to expect, at 19:30 last night we crossed the threshold of the restaurant and began a 14-course meal that would finish about three hours later.

Now, this was quite unlike anything I've done before, or will probably do again for a long time. (Un)fortunately, I'm not going to a May Ball this year, so the cost sort of balances out against that, but despite the eye wateringness of it all, I can't deny that it was worth it. Having never been to a restaurant even approaching Midsummer House's standard, I have to confess to having very little to compare it too, but it was certainly an experience!

We started with home made crisps and a balsamic vinegar foam, and cheese scones. I feel incredibly unqualified to criticise anything that we ate last night, and actually I'm embarrassed to do so, but the start was probably the weakest point of the meal compared to the other dishes. The first-dish proper was a champagne and pink grapefruit foam, which was good. Then came a tiger-prawn, cucumber and cauliflower foam, which was very tasty. Cauliflower can be a bit fibrous, but this wasn't at all. Very good. Next up langoustine and king crab, which was my first time eating crab, but while again being very good, didn't quite match up to the rest in my opinion. This was followed by what I think might have been the most impressive dish, piquillo pepper cannelloni. It's a bit hard to explain but it was a chicken liver pate shaped as an ice-lolly wrapped in some sort of red hard coating. Visually it was very impressive, and it tasted to match. Then came a bit of a revelation in sauteed scallop with bay leaf and pigs trotter. I'd never thought you were meant to eat bay leaves, and they do have a very strong flavour, but it went very well with the scallop. But the pig's trotter was quite a surprise, and very nice indeed - ironic for what I guess is quite a cheap cut of meat?! Then a 'safe' dish in English asparagus with a sliver of spring truffle. This was a little less adventurous than the ones that came before, but it was a nice palette cleanser after the previous couple of quite rich dishes. This was followed by roast zander with red wine and nettles.

Then came the mystically named 'Pousse Café', which turned out to be a drink not unlike egg nog made with egg yolks, maple syrup and Jack Daniels cream, to be downed in one. Those that know me will know that I don't drink. The champagne and pink grapefruit foam at the start of the meal was fine though, but Kostia took the first gulp of this one to see just how strong it was. Fortunately it wasn't at all, and I think taste wise, this was probably the most memorable of the meal.

Next was another visual spectacle in bourbon smoked pigeon, iceberg lettuce and sweet potato, which arrived at the table with a glass bowl over the plate holding in a cloud of smoke which the waiter then wafted as he lifted the bowl realising the smoke and the smell. Quite a sight.

We decided that seeing how we were already spending quite a bit that we should pay an extra £5 for the 'artisanal cheeses'. They arrived a trolley, and there must have been about twenty-five to choose from. We each had five each, and while I seemed to pick one's that I actually enjoyed, Kostia was unfortunate enough to pick one particularly strong specimen that had to be severed with a spoon and did actually smell like the inside of a public convenience. His face when he tried it was enough to convince me that I didn't want to sample it for myself; it certainly lived up to its smell. Later on in the evening a guy at the adjacent table refused to have it after recounting his prior experience with the same cheese. But nothing ventured nothing gained I suppose.

Then came the dessert courses, and unfortunately I think I'd have preferred it had the order of the dishes been reversed. We started with what I think was the best with a camomile, lemon and ginger concoction witha gain was palette cleansing and subtly flavoured and wonderfully creamy. Next up was probably the most 'haute cuisine' dish of the evening in the pear, black olive and fennel dish, which we both thought maybe tried a little too hard with quite a few strong flavours. Finally came a bit of a surprise in the coffee, chocolate and passion fruit which wasn't what we expected with each component being impressive cuboid - especially the coffee flavoured poached meringue.

And that was that. As I say, every course was amazing and unlike anything I've tasted before, and I was actually pleasantly surprised by how unpretentious the whole place was. I'm certainly not the fussy eater that I once was, but there are still pockets of food into which I'd rather not venture and I was a little concerned that I simply wouldn't like the dishes we were served, but I can honestly say that there wasn't one dish that I didn't enjoy eating and wouldn't have wanted to eat more of had it been served as a stand along main course. Even those I've criticised, I can only criticise by comparing them to the other dishes on the tasting menu. So in reality, no complaints at all.

Breakfast didn't seem quite the same this morning though.

A Much Needed Break

True to my word, at midday on Thursday I finished my last ever Cambridge Trips exam. When the invigalator called time at the end of the paper, it was as if she was calling time on my whole four-years at University. It's a very strange feeling. On the one hand, it feels like it's a year overdue, but on the other hand (and I think the dominant one), it feels like it's much too soon. But either way, it's been a huge relief to get this term over with. As terms go, exam term is never the rosiest of the three, but this one has been particularly long.

Of course, it's the same for everyone, and indeed for some people it hasn't actually ended yet. But I reached a point at the end of March where I felt as if I'd been at University too long, and it was great to come back home for Easter. Things were fine at the start of the term, but it's been a long term with little respite. Sadly the exams were a bit hit and miss, not to prejudge, but I'd say two were poor, three were so-so and one was good. Fortunately the last one was the good one, so at least things ended on a high note.

After I'd finished, I went to what will probably be my last Selwyn Formal Hall with Will and Jon, which was fun, before boarding a train bound for Penzance on Friday. I had the pleasure of sitting next to a lady with a Prada mobile phone. The journey to Penzance via train isn't one I make that often, but it's actually a really picturesque journey especially when it follows the estuary of the Ex river after Exeter for several miles. But after seven hours travelling, it was good to pull into Penzance station and find mum waiting for me.

So, what do I do when I find myself at home for the first time in over two-months having just finished my exams? Well, having not had a great deal of fresh air or exercise for a while, I decided to spend Saturday walking to Land's End from Penzance along the coastal path - a walk of about 16 miles. For the first 10 or so it felt like a good idea, then it went a bit downhill (sadly only figuratively!).


It's a walk I've never done, and it's surprising how little I know about the places that are only a few miles from where I live - the coast is full of little inlets, coves, beaches and villages that I've never heard of, let along seen. It's easy to see why Cornwall was such a popular choice with smugglers back in the days - and in fact, the coastal path was originally created to allow the Customs people to patrol the coast.



Dad generously offered to walk with me, and we both remarked on how beautiful Cornwall actually is. Cornwall has a lot more to offer than just Newquay and surfing. Yes, it rains a lot, but there are few places in the UK where you can walk ony a few miles from a town and find such lovely views across the sea, especially when the county itself has such a rich maritime heritage. So much of it is still unspoilt too.



In fact, it places it could almost have been medditeranean judging by the weather, and the amount of the people on the beaches and in the sea - a bit like one of those 'wish you were' here postcard pictures.


But despite the lovely scenery all around, it was a blessed relief to reach the white-signpost that signalled the finishing point of Land's End.


Unfortunately both mine and Dad's boots starting digging into our ankles just over half-way, but fortunately it was my left foot, and Dad's right, and even more fortunately, we're the same shoe size. So, the natural thing to do was to swap only one boot - which we duely did. Much to the amusement of some passing walkers.


Ankles all better now though, and amazingly, I could actually move this morning. Hence the day being spent at a slightly more sedate pace walking around Truro.

I'm getting the sleeper train back to London this evening, to get back to Cambridge tomorrow morning. And it's amazing how much difference a couple of days can make as I'm looking forward to being back; people to see, things to do as they say. This will be my last end of term, so I'm certainly going to make the most of it!