Posh Accents and Latent Homosexuality

Quick, where do specky smartarses with posh accents go before becoming politicians or lawyers or literary critics for the Times Literary Supplement?

If you said “school” then congratulations, you’re officially a chav, a redneck, or whatever your country’s version of scum is. The correct answer, of course, is Cambridge, England. I’d also accept Oxford, Eton, any Ivy League school, and “places awash with latent homosexuality”. But for our purposes, the answer’s Cambridge.

My hometown.

Yes, that means this is one of those “travel” posts where the author has run out of ideas and is writing about what’s around them. My excuse is that Cambridge is a place a lot of people want to visit and I seem to have a global audiences these days. Hi Japan! Hi Brazil! Hi penguins! And I pinky promise it’ll be back to somewhere exotic next time.

King's College Cambridge from Backs

Cambridge is full of history more action-packed than Michael Bay could manage if he made fifty Transformers movies. From an 800-year-old university to the greatest living Brit starting his career here at Cambridge Footlights, there’s a story down every cobbled street. And that day that the Chinese man dropped his ice cream on a swan’s head, oh golly, that was the talk of the town for weeks. It made the front page of our newspaper and everything. And let’s not forget the time a child cut itself with a knife while helping a parent out in the kitchen and the Cambridge police force decided it would be suitable to send out the police helicopter. One of those stories is actually true and it’s not the ice cream on swan’s head one.

Cambridge Students Sitting on Wall

What I’m trying to say is that Cambridge isn’t exactly lively. Crime is non-existent. The sketchiest neighbourhood in Cambridge has schools called “The Manor” and “The Grove”. If you get accosted by kids from those schools it’s because all sixteen of their fountain pens have run out of ink and they need a spare.

Tourism is the biggest business in Cambridge.

Asians on Punts in Cambridge

Particularly Asian tourists.

They come in packs, armed with deadly cameras, shuffling down each street while bulging out into the road, pausing every 15 steps to snap another three dozen pictures, and they will follow the pack leader to the death. But we love them. Asian tourists are the best tourists. I mean, imagine if there were packs of Americans stalking the streets. If you’re American, you probably already know what it’s like — horrible isn’t it?

Cambridge Building Facade

That’s a brief summary of Cambridge for now. A more in-depth story of a specific aspect of Cambridge life will be on its way sometime in the future.

If you can’t wait that long, or just want more of a feel of Cambridge, check this post out.

7 Comments Add yours

  1. most amusing, my kinda-hometown in Stratford upon Avon so a lot of this rings so true! However….I spent two weeks as a covering manager in a shop selling cashmere jumpers, among other things {it has closed down since} in Cambridge and the shoplifting, thieving feckers there were awful! Far worse than Stratford! They brazenly walked into the shop EVERY DAY cruising round the jumpers. Still winds me up to this day! Lovely place though 🙂


    1. ambigram0 says:

      Haha I knew bad thieves were around but I didn’t know they were so common!


  2. Mary says:

    As soon as I saw “the greatest living Brit starting his career here at Cambridge Footlights,” I was like, “It better be Stephen Fry.”

    And it was.


    1. ambigram0 says:

      No other contenders for “greatest living Brit” in my mind!


  3. bighair63 says:

    I went to university in Cambridge. I have fond memories – rowing, the folk festival, taking a job as a punter(?), the latent homosexuality, but I disagree on the crime element, bicycle crime is rife!


    1. ambigram0 says:

      Agreed! I should have at least mentioned it because, yep, I’ve had a few bikes stolen over the years!


  4. pickledwings says:

    Very funny and enjoyable article. Nothing wrong with writing about home sometimes.

    If my memory serves, Cambridge was also the alma mater of the greatest dead Brit, Graham Chapman, no?


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