Between moving Matt’s tat into storage and then out to Ancoats I popped back on Wednesday to take my Dad for an X-Ray at Addenbrookes and my Aygo to Newmarket Road for its M.O.T.
One of these days I’ll get those things mixed up, with disastrous consequences.
With the Aygo at Cambridge Vehicle Services all morning I chose to use the train to get home and back again. Spoiler : My little car passed its MOT with flying colours, despite creeping towards the 200,000 mile mark.
At 8am it was too early for a pub (even the Regal), even for Stafford Paul, but the walk past the Abbey almost made up for that.
Just to prove this blog is turning into a food review site, after the pie and chips the night before I now bring you Eggs Benedict with Smoked Salmon from the Black Cat Cafe on Mill Road. Spectacularly good, and the flat white was hot for more than 15 minutes.
Frankly, on my first visit it turned out to be more fun than any of those Devon gastropubs this last month. Music ranged from “Mandy” by Barry and, of course, “Seasons in the Sun“, which tells you a lot.
One old boy with a cravat had two identical breakfasts then asked an unsuspecting lady on the next table that eternal question;
“Who’s your favourite revolutionary ?”
“Was Che Guevara a revolutionary ?”
“I GUESS so”
You don’t get that quality in the White Swan, except when they have Irish nights. Which feel a long way off now. As do the days of that Hot Numbers Record Store.
I’d forgotten what Cambridge Station looked like. A bit like Havana, that’s what.
You can tell how quiet the trains are by visiting Waterbeach Station car park. Overflowing in March, TWO cars now.
My journeys to Waterbeach, and 3 hours later to collect my Aygo, had 10 people strewn across 4 carriages. Will things ever be the same again. Do we want them to be ?