The tourists are about to descend so this morning I set off at nine to walk to Grantchester, hoping for a solitary idyll working at the Orchard.
On the way, a few glimpses of life here:
Virginia Woolf was a fan of the Orchard, where Bloomsbury consorted with the Neo-Pagans. Though she remarked of Cambridge: No place in the world can be lovelier… Lord! How dull it would be to live here!
Indeed. Though today, who cares? I worked on essays for a few hours then drifted off to sleep in the sun:
