Act XV- Alfonso-Reinbold visit Cambridge Edition and some holidays

Grandpa Harry Potter and Blonde Ron Weasley
with "large" pumpkins

October is the start of my favourite quarter of year: three months of low-angle sunshine all with fun holidays at the end of the month. Halloween in Britain, the land where many of our American-o-ween traditions were derived, felt very familiar and satisfied my seasonal need. I say this having spent a very dull Halloween in the Netherlands on our last sabbatical (Sorry Netherlands. I don't mean to bad-mouth you. Different strokes for different folks of course but Halloween is just very important to me. I am a costumer for goodness sake.) and fearing that England might not take up the holiday with the same zest that I am used to. In truth they are a bit calmer about it- no one decorates nearly as much and the costume selection seems to be limited to only scary things like skeletons and vampires. But there were carving pumpkins in the grocery stores (coming in surprisingly uniform sizes of "small" and "large"), roving bands of trick-or-treaters, and candy candy candy. Just like in the states, trick or treat began around 6 pm and participating houses were asked to indicate their participation with an exterior visual (in this case some sort of carved vegetable/candle combination). A lopsided ratio of houses not participating to houses participating was off-set by the fact that our neighborhood was built very densely with little to no space separating long strings of houses. In short, the boys collected healthy sacks of candy and we got to glimpse the vast spectrum of our neighbors. Since we do not have a front door I left our offerings in a bowl on the window ledge with a note that attempted to appeal to the good-will of the trick-or-treaters, requesting that they take only one piece. Not sure if it worked as the bowl was empty by the time we even started out upon our own collection. Oh well.

You can't take pictures at the pool so here is
a stock photo from the website

  Friday saw a reprise of our adventures in the UK with our friends Joe and Jenna and their kiddies, Isaac and Eleanor. In August they showed us around their digs in St. Andrews, Scotland and now we were to get the chance to reciprocate in Cambridge. Arriving just as our boys got home from school, we took our guests to Parkside Pools so that they might enjoy the thrill of its flumes. Unfortunately we could not convince Eleanor to try the slides but I think the rest of group enjoyed them (seems the original luster of this Cambridge feature is even dimming for my kids, who on our first encounter had spent two straight hours climbing the stairs and riding the slides and this time were content with just 4 rounds. Time to go home?) 

  On Saturday, after a delicious brunch at Hot Numbers, a perfect cafe at the end of our street, we trekked downtown to the river with a sack full of cans of Pimms. Since there were too many of us to rent one of the small punts of our previous river adventures we opted for a private punting tour on one of the guided boats. The padded and blanketed seats of our spacious punt and the complimentary hot water bottles were a luxurious upgrade (reflected in the price) from our prior Scudamore rentals. Our guide, a plucky Cambridgian whose father is a professor of biology, was, however, a significant step down from our customary punter (Kurt). It was not that she was not super-friendly, or knowledgeable, or a good presenter- she was all of those in spades. But her skills at maneuvering the boat left a bit to be desired. Now it could just be

Pole rescue. 

that this punt was nearly twice the width of the self-hire punts and therefore harder to control but she seemed to be zigzagging across the river, while most of her fellow guides kept their boats on a rather straighter trajectory. At one point she even lost the pole to a particularly mushy part of the river bed and another punting party had to come to our rescue. We, of course, tried our best to make her feel better about this as it really was not a concern for us who were having a great time on our leisurely ride but I'm not sure her pride was sufficiently patched by the end. It really is a ridiculous way to move through the water- the poor guides are set up for failure by decades of tradition.

  After punting, Kurt was able to take the whole party minus one (me) into Kings College grounds with the help of his college ID. Apparently the kids enjoyed the grandeur of the chapel but were more awed by the roomba-style lawn mower that was meticulously manicuring the college grass. For their good behavior we let the kids pick out some sweets at the Olde Sweet Shoppe across the street.
  From there it was lazy lunch at the Eagle Pub (made lazier by the long wait for the food- we let the kids eat their candy first as a result) and then the company split so that the kids could go play soccer on Parker's Piece and Jenna and I could check out another pub, the Pickerel Inn, where CS Lewis apparently spent some time. On the way to said pub we passed the famous Round Church, and Jenna being a professor of religion and I being a lover of old architecture, were naturally drawn in to check it out. This was actually
my second visit to the place but my first kid-free one so I reveled in the uninterrupted reading of the church's informational exhibits. The Nave of the Round Church,as one might guess from the name, is rounded, an
a-typical design for the Norman era in which it was built (most churches of this time were build in a cross-shape) but one that was inspired by the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. That structure was built by Emperor Constantine on what was believed to be Jesus's empty tomb. Clearly the Cambridge church was meant to celebrate the Resurrection of the Christ and while its shape has changed a bit from its first days and services are no longer held there, it still serves as a shrine to the history of Christian faith in the city. Jenna and I spent so much time in the church that we used up our kid-free time and forfeited our venture to the Pickerel.

Street performer who plays a guitar in a public trash bin

  At home the kids tumbled around the house and yard while we grown-ups enjoyed a few drinks and
some catching up. The 8 to 1 bathroom ratio turned out to not be a problem for anyone but me who had children disturb her private time on no less than two occasions despite my attempts to dissuade entrance when I heard little feet plodding towards the bathroom (there is no lock on the bathroom door by the way). The sleeping arrangements too worked out just fine though as expected the kids took a bit of extra time falling asleep.
 

On Sunday, before the Reinbold-Alfonso's flight home, we managed to squeeze in brunch at Pembroke College, a visit to the Center for Computing history, and a quick football match at our favorite pitch. The plan was nearly derailed by my second flat tire of our stay here but luckily my smart husband had put on a gel filled tube the first time it happened so that I was at least able to limp the bike to the bike shop to get it repaired. Come on, bakfiets! Just a few more weeks.


   On Monday arrive another popular British Holiday (that is strangely not noted on my National

Geographic Calendar of England)- Guy Fawkes Night. Guy Fawkes was a seventeenth century English Catholic at a time when Elizabeth I's successor James I was solidifying England's identity as a Protestant nation. Fawkes and a group of associates hoped to push their religious and political ideas though a terror campaign that would culminate in the destruction of the Parliament building with the help of several barrels of gunpowder.  Before they could enact the plot, the conspirators were discovered on November 5th 1604, arrested, and later executed. To celebrate this triumph of justice

over terrorism, the English now celebrate the 5th of November as "Guy Fawkes Night" with large bonfires and fireworks. Cambridge even throws in a whole carnival to the affair, taking over the normally peaceful Midsummer Common with tons of rides and food vendors. Unfortunately the 5th fell on a Monday this year but luckily, unlike Gettysburg and its 11:00 Fourth of July show, Cambridge starts the fireworks display at 7 so we were able to take the kids to experience the truly epic show and ride a carnival ride or two without getting home much after bed-time.
"Remember remember the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I see not reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot."