What are you supposed to do when you know for a fact that the weather for at least the next two weeks will be typically English, which means greyish, dull, nippy and blustery? Shielding at home with your never-ending work, books and several films from your watching-list? Of course, not: Providence (a special word in your life it seems) has recently given you lots of clues on how to spend your weekend no matter what, such as BBC articles about a map of all the walking routes, a newly found gem in your library “Walks in East Anglia” etc. You simply cannot ignore them all.
And we didn’t. We chose another route to one of our most beloved destinations, the Green Dragon pub on Water St., on the other bank of Cam, opposite to the Industrial Museum, my Steampunk manna dew. Oddly enough, despite our knowledge of pretty much all paths towards the place (either via Kingston St or via Thoday St/ Coldhams Common), we discovered another one, which goes parallel to Abbey St and passes by an old church.
The weather was, of course, far from being properly springlike (solid +12, intermittent showers and undoubtedly fresh air), but the river bank was as lively as on any other day: cyclists (suddenly, not too intimidating this time), wanderers like us, with little kids and large doggos, and, finally, rowers, students from college boat racing teams, who have finally begun training as it was before the pandemic. Their presence gave us that necessary boost of normality we both so desperately needed.
And, of course, the Green Dragon itself: surprisingly, they let us in the beer garden without asking about booking in advance: we didn’t expect it. And it got better: L. was enjoying his ale, and I was sipping my lemonade, a forgotten taste of the things “before-shit-hit-the-fan.”
On the way home young calves were eating grass paying zero attention to us, and it also was relaxing and felt great. Let it all continue.
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