Regimental Sergeant Major West, the head porter, used to say to me, ‘All these loutish students! At least you stand up straight, sir’
THE BEST... BUN IN CAMBRIDGE Tabatha Leggett is reading Philosophy at Girton Generally speaking, sticky things are good. Glitter glue is good. Bubblegum is good. But most important, sticky buns are good. When it comes to sweet treats, I’m a firm believer that if you’re not licking your fingers and lips throughout the entire eating experience, something’s not quite right. And so, in an effort to escape exam-term blues and delay revision for as long as possible, I’ve been on the lookout for Cambridge’s best bun. Stickiness is, of course, the main criterion, and it’s a tough and exacting task, as I am sure you can imagine. Coffeeshop buns, for example, are notoriously poor. I can understand why someone would venture to Starbucks or Caffé Nero for a tasty treat in an attempt to overcome a Week Five slump in Lent or Michaelmas term – God knows we’ve all resorted to a cheeky almond croissant before a 9am supervision. But in exam term, mass-produced muffins just don’t fit the bill. You need something more. You need something more considered… something stickier. Patisserie Valerie is lovely, but only if you’re prepared to use cutlery. And I maintain that revision is complicated enough without the introduction of knives and forks. I love a strawberry tart as much as the next person, but the cream/custard/ jelly combination is too much to deal with at this time of year. So, for the perfect bun, you need something simple, something to the point. You need a Chelsea bun from Fitzbillies. There’s something special about the glaze on this currant and cinnamon bun – something so irresistible that I have begun to find it almost impossible to walk along Trumpington Street without popping in for a toothsome treat. At just £1.80, Chelsea buns won’t put you out of pocket, but they will stick your fingers together, make your lips sugary and have your friends queueing up to hand you a tissue. Chelsea buns are so sticky that they don’t fall apart when you bite into them. And so even though dissertation deadlines and exam timetables are making everyone around you fall apart, you can tuck in, safe in the knowledge that this, at least, will maintain its shape. Just make sure you wash your hands after eating one, because sticky revision notes aren’t good.
Steve Bond
played Bob Dylan, Supertramp and Van Morrison – but most of all, he remembers the porters. “Having arrived straight from the army I had very short hair, stood up straight, and the Head Porter – Regimental Sergeant Major West – used to say to me, ‘All these loutish students! At least you stand up straight, sir’. By the time I had been in Cambridge six months, my hair was long, I slouched – I was such a disappointment to him. He was a wonderful man.” Boekstein, has also got to know the porters rather well, but for a quite different reason. “All the locks on our doors have just been changed, so they lock automatically behind us. And it took quite a while to get used to,” she confesses. “I ended up locking myself out of my room three or four times a day and the porters had to let me back in!” Is U2 is a good room for parties? Mitchell remembers having a particularly good time in May Week. “About 20 of my friends in College came along with a bottle. My sister had come up a day earlier and slept on the floor, and after my party we went off to another party, and then to another,” he says. “When she went back to London, I remember she looked at me at the railway station and said, ‘You are in paradise here’. And it sort of was, really.” As for other activities, Boekstein says that she’s been keeping busy helping to organise ents for the Jewish Society ball, but as a Natsci, her life is fully timetabled. “Students today are much more diligent than we were,” Mitchell says, “because in those days you didn’t have to worry about unemployment. In my last year I went to very, very few lectures.” Instead, Mitchell, who read History, says that he remembers bicycling midmorning to the Seeley, and to the UL. “I’d go with every intention of sitting down and working, but I’d end up bumping into someone and going to have very good scones in the UL tearoom!” Mitchell also spent time at the Union (where he served as President) and stood for election to the University’s Conservative Association. “There were eight places and I tied for bottom place. Under the constitution you had to draw straws, and I won, which was absolutely outrageous because Jon Baker was much more experienced than me and much better able to contribute to CUCA,” he says. “I remember walking through the snow to St John’s to have dinner and thinking, ‘This is fantastic, to be in Cambridge, in the snow, and to have won an election on the toss of a coin’.” But other than electoral success, what would he bequeath to future inhabitants of U2? “Oh it would have to be a piece of music – probably Dylan, I should think. The late nights here echoed to ‘Lay Lady Lay’.”
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