A little piece of art in Cam

While crossing the old streets of Cambridge, I couldn't help turning on my Ipod and letting the renowned London band get up to their old tricks. “You can't always get what you want” (but if you try sometimes, you get what you need), the immortal Rolling Stones.

It was as cold as a witch's bosom in a brass bra and the windy weather amplified those freezing feelings. I was going to Cambridge public library to borrow some books.

Actually, there are lots of public libraries spread throughout the city. The Cambridge University Library, established in the 15^th century, is the oldest of all of them. I'd really like to go there if I'm accepted. Huge building.

British libraries are considerably better organized than most of the Spanish ones. Everything works on like clockwork and it's also very easy to find whatever you want to find. Books, newspapers, magazines, CD's with music of any type, vinyls, maps and drawings,... all at hand. Applying the library is free and you've got the option of borrowing a maximum of twelve items each time, which is awesome. Close to the entrance of the library, machines are provided to check the products you want to borrow. Just by placing them on a specific area, all together, there's no more need to worry. Huxley's biography was my choice, indeed (I'm very interested in his philosophy lately, specially in his approach to oriental thoughts and the awakening of the consciousness).

After that, I decided to have a walk downtown with one of my colleagues and take a glance at the majestic architecture and shapes of its old buildings. Narrow streets combined with intensely vivid colours, shops that offered with open arms attraction to its customers, street artists whose music was embracing the atmosphere of the place, bridges over the Cam river and, of course, the preservation of the main buildings of the historic university, the King's College Chapel, the other colleges (Trinity, St. John's, Queens...) and the crowded Market located in Market Square were creating the perfect postcard.

As we were walking through the greenery around the town center, a procession of people, all uniformed, was following a clear line to the main Chapel. I was wondering if it was Trinity College's choir. It seemed, indeed, it was.

After my friend's goodbye, I went to visit Fitzwilliams Museum. It was quite late and maybe I wouldn't have enough time to see in great detail all its antiquities and works of art, but ,at least, it could be a good opportunity to admire impressionist paintings.

On my way to the museum, I met a very interesting person who was studying a PhD at the University. She showed me some of the most remarkable landmarks to visit along the Cam and the best places to be imbibed with the people of the area.

Finally, I could see all the impressionist masterpieces at the museum: Gauguin, Renoir, Monet and Matisse specially, and I could notice how the museum was invaded by a group of ten art students who captured the essence of Fitzwilliams museum sculptures in their own notebooks. Talented, indeed.

The museum closed and I thought it could be the moment to hang out with my dutch friend as we had set out the night before, but I realised that in less than one hour dinner would be on the table, so I put it on hold for maybe another occasion.

Returning home, a good sort of feelings were overpowering me. I attempted to preserve it for the rest of the week (new experiences and adventures were awaiting)...