Travelling down to Dorset yesterday, from Scotland, and decided to call in to my old Alma mater for a spot of breakfast. It’s only a five minute detour, and always worth it.
Sometimes we lose sight of ourselves in the big scheme of things, and being here is a reminder of a most wonderful time, immersed in books and learning, meeting new friends from all over the world, a different context, a nudge to self to step out of routine and the ordinary from time to time.
I did a double take, that bicycle is identical to the one I had, a menace on the roads, it was a real bone shaker, but the young man in the bike shop enthused so much over it, a 1952 original Raleigh. I sold it when I left, to an incoming graduate, and wish I hadn’t.
High Table here was always special. The chef a marvel, his food was exquisite, and much talked about by all the other rather envious colleges, when the Emperor of Japan came, GTC was chosen as the best place to entertain him.
The steward always brought me a little something extra, much to the amusement of Lawrence, my best pal in College.
And afterwards up to the Common Room, for coffee and petit fours, the grand piano played more often than not by a visiting fellow.
Happy days, I miss it.