He Was A Skater Pup
Jun. 5th, 2011 01:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lupestripeI was back in Cambridge over the weekend, attending a university function and catching up with some old friends. It was like old times - a lot of fun and great conversation too. I really enjoyed it and the meal was most excellent too. I have never drank so much port in my life - aside from that New Year with Lone Wolf.
On Saturday morning, waiting to hear about the fursuit I wanted to buy, I had a little time to kill with friends in Cambridge. We were pestered by punt tour guides repeatedly, even though we probably knew more about the city than the pesky undergrads in their silly clothes (I don't like punting anyway - one hour stuck with these people on a rickety wooden contraption from which there is no escape - no thanks). I also got run over by cyclists numerous times. I had once perfected a dodging technique but in the intervening years, it has deserted me.
We went to Carluccio's for breakfast, on the recommendation of my friend who said it was good. The food was nice, if overpriced, but the service was amongst the most shoddy I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. Part of the problem was we were on a table hidden by a pole but that is of little excuse. They were inflexible on their menu options and ignored us for vast swathes of the morning. Consequently, I ate half of their complimentary cheese selection in protest.
After this, I showed my friend the delights of the Build A Bear workshop before we headed to Jesus Green (which looks like an elephant) to watch athletic students play volleyball and lie on the grass. It was a very relaxing day until I got the phone call I was waiting for, telling me I could buy the fursuit I wanted. So encouraged by my friends - who offered to lend me money in order to buy the suit due to all the banks being closed and me exceeding my cash machine withdrawal limit - I yomped across South-East England to pick up Verdi. And most pleased I am too.
On Saturday morning, waiting to hear about the fursuit I wanted to buy, I had a little time to kill with friends in Cambridge. We were pestered by punt tour guides repeatedly, even though we probably knew more about the city than the pesky undergrads in their silly clothes (I don't like punting anyway - one hour stuck with these people on a rickety wooden contraption from which there is no escape - no thanks). I also got run over by cyclists numerous times. I had once perfected a dodging technique but in the intervening years, it has deserted me.
We went to Carluccio's for breakfast, on the recommendation of my friend who said it was good. The food was nice, if overpriced, but the service was amongst the most shoddy I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. Part of the problem was we were on a table hidden by a pole but that is of little excuse. They were inflexible on their menu options and ignored us for vast swathes of the morning. Consequently, I ate half of their complimentary cheese selection in protest.
After this, I showed my friend the delights of the Build A Bear workshop before we headed to Jesus Green (which looks like an elephant) to watch athletic students play volleyball and lie on the grass. It was a very relaxing day until I got the phone call I was waiting for, telling me I could buy the fursuit I wanted. So encouraged by my friends - who offered to lend me money in order to buy the suit due to all the banks being closed and me exceeding my cash machine withdrawal limit - I yomped across South-East England to pick up Verdi. And most pleased I am too.
