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I've spent the morning telling myself that I should do something productive and put off writing the final section of this report. Of course, I have done nothing but surf the net, have cups of coffee and make myself an early lunch. As this was on my mind, I'll have to get this out of the way, so German translation will again have to wait. The details will be somewhat more sparse, I suspect, as the events recede a little in my memory.
I promised the book sale. I found that Cellis had indeed bought the only item I was really interested in; Oin expanded his Asimov collection, however, and Cellis acquired a Star Trek photonovel, a novelty to her post-video eyes.
It was then time to return to the exhibition, and take a closer look at some of the items not seen first time round. There was an exquisitely ornate purse-lid found in the grave, inset with garnets and millefiori glass, so the postcard says. I was particularly struck by the range of metal representations of animals on display, not all from Sutton Hoo. There was a late Roman dog and a mouse which were naturalistic with a little anthropomorphism; these seemed to represent the animals as friendly creatures to be petted. I was more used to the more stylised depictions of other animals. Rustica did Anglo-Saxon history at university and gave a running commentary on some of the favoured interpretations of the items. A brooch showing a man beset by bears, or a bear and a wolf, was cited as evidence that early seventh-century Anglo-Saxons had a sophisticated belief that humanity lived in harmony with nature; but Rustica pointed out that it could just as easily mean that human beings had to defend themselves against nature.
There was also a tufa in a side room, a kind of metal post with hooks and frames on which items could be suspended as part of a processional display. Once its purpose was realised, the blue and silver SocT scarves which most of the party were wearing (designed and made by Vetinari, one of the driving forces of latterday SocT, unfortunately absent because of finals) were draped over the tufa for photographic purposes. The flashes went - and a staff member breezed in castigating us for the use of flash photography. The abuse of the tufa seemed not to be a problem!
Five o'clock approached, and as the site closed we wended back to the minibus. This was parked next to the children's play area, and as it is questionable whether any of SocT have, in spirit, advanced much beyond infancy, distracted the company for several minutes. Once the immediate possibilities there had been exhausted we then had several photographs taken in front of the minibus, and then headed for home, or so we thought.
Stonechild knows the M25 well, and thought that it would be very busy on a Sunday night; she also knew a pub in Cambridge which served good food and should be able to cope with sixteen people at short notice. She and I sat in the front to aid Rustica with navigation, following the pattern of the outward journey, and when neither of us pointed out the slip road on the A14 Ipswich bypass signed 'London, Colchester A12' the decision was made. Dinner in Cambridge it would be. I welcomed the opportunity to see some more of Suffolk from the road; there were glimpses of a few well-kept villages and, as we went through Bury St Edmunds on embankments and viaducts, half-timbered houses.
Parking in Cambridge was more difficult than Stonehchild had expected - 'Oh, great. I might have known they would all come into town on a Sunday night when there are no parking charges' - and at one point I was outside the minibus ready to help Rustica reverse into a narrow side street while avoiding the open gutters at each sie of Trumpington Street. We ended up parking near Newnham College. The minibus emptied with bemused passengers remarking that 'This is Cambridge...' The New Zealand contingent appreciated the chance to take some photographs of punting (from the wrong end of the boat, of course) at sunset, however.
Unfortunately Stonechild's pub - the famous Eagle, where Watson and Crick first announced their discovery of DNA - lied when it said that it served food all day, every day - and we meandered through town until we imposed ourselves on a Garfunkel's, who coped successfully with the unexpected numbers. On the way I explained to one of the New Zealanders about pub names - 'The Mitre' isn't necessarily in the same ownership as the pub of the same name in Oxford, but All Bar One certainly will be!
It was almost dark when we left Cambridge; Stonechild took over as far as Buckingham. On the way she pointed out the gibbet standing by a former pub (now a Chinese restaurant) at the A428/A1198 roundabout, about fifteen miles west of Cambridge. Milton Keynes is even more drab and anonymous at night than in the day, and seems to go on for ever. I drove the last 25 miles or so into Oxford, and after leaving the majority of the party on Broad Street at 11.25, the driving committee took the minibus back to the rental place. My car was thankfully intact, despite being left on an industrial estate on the edge of Oxford all day.
This was a great and successful experiment - Rustica has received many congratulations for conceiving the idea.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
drievertel has already suggested Lindisfarne as a future option, but I think we'll need to take a few days for that expedition...
I promised the book sale. I found that Cellis had indeed bought the only item I was really interested in; Oin expanded his Asimov collection, however, and Cellis acquired a Star Trek photonovel, a novelty to her post-video eyes.
It was then time to return to the exhibition, and take a closer look at some of the items not seen first time round. There was an exquisitely ornate purse-lid found in the grave, inset with garnets and millefiori glass, so the postcard says. I was particularly struck by the range of metal representations of animals on display, not all from Sutton Hoo. There was a late Roman dog and a mouse which were naturalistic with a little anthropomorphism; these seemed to represent the animals as friendly creatures to be petted. I was more used to the more stylised depictions of other animals. Rustica did Anglo-Saxon history at university and gave a running commentary on some of the favoured interpretations of the items. A brooch showing a man beset by bears, or a bear and a wolf, was cited as evidence that early seventh-century Anglo-Saxons had a sophisticated belief that humanity lived in harmony with nature; but Rustica pointed out that it could just as easily mean that human beings had to defend themselves against nature.
There was also a tufa in a side room, a kind of metal post with hooks and frames on which items could be suspended as part of a processional display. Once its purpose was realised, the blue and silver SocT scarves which most of the party were wearing (designed and made by Vetinari, one of the driving forces of latterday SocT, unfortunately absent because of finals) were draped over the tufa for photographic purposes. The flashes went - and a staff member breezed in castigating us for the use of flash photography. The abuse of the tufa seemed not to be a problem!
Five o'clock approached, and as the site closed we wended back to the minibus. This was parked next to the children's play area, and as it is questionable whether any of SocT have, in spirit, advanced much beyond infancy, distracted the company for several minutes. Once the immediate possibilities there had been exhausted we then had several photographs taken in front of the minibus, and then headed for home, or so we thought.
Stonechild knows the M25 well, and thought that it would be very busy on a Sunday night; she also knew a pub in Cambridge which served good food and should be able to cope with sixteen people at short notice. She and I sat in the front to aid Rustica with navigation, following the pattern of the outward journey, and when neither of us pointed out the slip road on the A14 Ipswich bypass signed 'London, Colchester A12' the decision was made. Dinner in Cambridge it would be. I welcomed the opportunity to see some more of Suffolk from the road; there were glimpses of a few well-kept villages and, as we went through Bury St Edmunds on embankments and viaducts, half-timbered houses.
Parking in Cambridge was more difficult than Stonehchild had expected - 'Oh, great. I might have known they would all come into town on a Sunday night when there are no parking charges' - and at one point I was outside the minibus ready to help Rustica reverse into a narrow side street while avoiding the open gutters at each sie of Trumpington Street. We ended up parking near Newnham College. The minibus emptied with bemused passengers remarking that 'This is Cambridge...' The New Zealand contingent appreciated the chance to take some photographs of punting (from the wrong end of the boat, of course) at sunset, however.
Unfortunately Stonechild's pub - the famous Eagle, where Watson and Crick first announced their discovery of DNA - lied when it said that it served food all day, every day - and we meandered through town until we imposed ourselves on a Garfunkel's, who coped successfully with the unexpected numbers. On the way I explained to one of the New Zealanders about pub names - 'The Mitre' isn't necessarily in the same ownership as the pub of the same name in Oxford, but All Bar One certainly will be!
It was almost dark when we left Cambridge; Stonechild took over as far as Buckingham. On the way she pointed out the gibbet standing by a former pub (now a Chinese restaurant) at the A428/A1198 roundabout, about fifteen miles west of Cambridge. Milton Keynes is even more drab and anonymous at night than in the day, and seems to go on for ever. I drove the last 25 miles or so into Oxford, and after leaving the majority of the party on Broad Street at 11.25, the driving committee took the minibus back to the rental place. My car was thankfully intact, despite being left on an industrial estate on the edge of Oxford all day.
This was a great and successful experiment - Rustica has received many congratulations for conceiving the idea.
drievertel has already suggested Lindisfarne as a future option, but I think we'll need to take a few days for that expedition...