Diana had to study on Friday, and so I went on a forty-five-minute walk through the meadows to the village of Grantchester. I had been once before when I visited in January. That was a memorable occasion since one of Diana's friends was attacked by an angry cow! And I must say that I felt a little apprehension when I came across a sizable herd of them sitting right in the middle of the path on my way back to Cambridge. In fact, I waited until two other walkers had successfully navigated through the cows before I ventured by.
Despite the cows, it's a beautiful walk to Grantchester. You can go alongside a stream for most of the way--I think the stream is actually part of the Cam River.
This swan swam right near the bank as I was walking by.
There was a large hedge, the sort of place where you might imagine Peter Rabbit and other English characters from Beatrix Potter's children's books might live. And beyond the hedge was a golden field of some kind of grass. It was a really nice view.
Of course I was interested in walking by the little Anglican church in Grantchester. It is so incredible that all these tiny towns and villages in England have so much history. This church was hundreds of years old.
And it had a fabulous old door made from warped wood and a heavy iron handle. I couldn't believe that they actually still used a door like that.
Here is the graveyard adjoining the church, with green lawns and more of those thin tombstones with weathered, stone-cut inscriptions.
The main reason for walking to Grantchester, however, is to visit the tea room where Virginia Wolf and other literary luminaries used to come to have a scone and discuss ideas. Most of the tables and chairs are arranged in the shadow of an apple orchard. You get a tray and help yourself to scones, clotted cream, and jam, and then sit under the trees and think deep thoughts.
Here is my meal. The scone was delicious, as was the cherry jam, and I ate every bit of the clotted cream.
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