The East Coast, Cambridge, & Kenilworth

As one might expect, the days and the weeks began to run into each other, and it is difficult to remember where I have been what I have seen, where I hiked and how many hours I spent on coach rides. But somewhere in between York and Stratford-upon-Avon, we visited Lincoln Cathedral, hiked 20 miles barefoot along the east coast {oh, blessed day!}, took a tour of Cambridge campus, and romped about Kenilworth Castle. 

Cambridge

Cambridge: Legendary Chariots of Fire courtyard.

 Cambridge made me feel...unintelligent. To say the least. We were just a group of "wannabe" scholars staring longingly at our age's actual smart kids. At Cambridge they even have men in bowler hats to chase you off the lawn if you don't go to Cambridge. That is in fact a very real thing. Do not walk on the grass.

Although Cambridge brought about a short bout of depression concerning my unworthiness to be there/walk on the grass, the Wren Library provided a major lift for my mood. This library was the MOST beautiful library I have ever seen. Surrounding the shelves were busts of all the great philosophers and poets, the floors were black and white marble {which adds class to any establishment}, and best of all it was full wall to wall with wonderfully old books. There was a library employee there especially to shush us in order to keep us from disrupting the students studying, but I am fairly certain these students were not trying to study because I would definitely be in that library to be seen by the tourists. But you see, I was in that library to see one thing and one thing only: Shakespeare's First Folio. Without this compilation of all Shakespeare's plays, I probably would not have a major. When I folded back the leather which covered the folio's glass case, I burst into tears {quiet tears of course, because of the studying students}. It was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen {do I say that a lot?}. Reading the poem in preface by my other dear playwright Ben Jonson only caused more tears {not surprisingly}:

This Figure, that thou here seest put, 

It was for gentle Shakespeare cut;

Wherein the Graver had a strife

With Nautre, to outdo the life:

O. could he but have drawn his wit

As well in brass, as he hath hit 

His face: the Print would then surpass

All, that was ever writ in brass. 

But, since he cannot, Reader, look

Not on his Picture, but his Book. 

After my many tears were shed, we saw fit to leave Cambridge and make our way towards Kenilworth Castle, which was home to Robert Dudley {the favorite of Queen Elizabeth I} and as it turns out, a perfect place to play Sardines. 

Then we were off to my beloved Stratford.

-KB