In which Andrena makes an appearance
I never had any intention to get involved in this blogging business. After all, I have a perfectly good diary in which to record anything of interest, and by the time I have written a few letters (to relatives) and emails (to friends), I have pretty much said anything I wanted to say several times over. However, since Mike asked, why not?
My term, which began a week or so ago, has just about got up to speed; in real terms that means I am on to essay number two, lecturers have got past the fun, conceptual, broad-based and exciting introduction to their course and got down to the nitty-gritty of actually learning something (Why was the fourth century AD amazing has turned into exactly how Diocletian tried to deal with debasement of the coinage, you get the picture?) and I have suddenly and sharply regretted not reading the books I so conscienciously took home over Christmas. Cambridge doesn’t really change, except in so far as my college lawns now have polite little notices asking you to please, if you don’t mind, keep off the grass (otherwise all the winter mud makes them ugly you see). The lecture theatres are still uncomfortable, the libraries are still smugly filled with all the books you will not have time to read (excpet of course that the ones you want for your essay are out) and the streets are thronging with students in a hurry trying to overtake tourists who are not. But the lecturers are brilliant, my college is beautiful, my courses are really interesting.
All in all it is a wonderful place.












