 |
| Trinity College |
After a busy morning with classes, activities as well as the emotional farewell ceremony, I headed into town for my last visits and shots:
 |
| Trinity College |
Trinity College
Pembroke College
 |
| Pembroke College |
 |
| Pembroke College |
King's College
 | |
| King's College |
»»Roasted Cod Fillets with leeks and pancetta cream sauce+ sides: chips, peas and courgette. As usual, salad and fresh fruit.
Well, this was it...a fabulous 2-week experience which included colleagues from 16 different nationalities in a gorgeous place with a rich and intense programme with classes, afternoon workshops, sports activities, cultural programme... plenty to choose from and noone can complain of boredom! Even the staff and weather contributed for such a positive and stimulating environment, both professionally and individually. Not everything was perfect, but much certainly depends on each one of us...I prefer to stick to what was really great: the tutor, the group, the place, the visits, the food...
I wouldn't like to finish though without posting one last picture of Homerton as well as a poem by Jim Scrivener that so well reflect life at the campus and the way, I guess, we all felt and feel:
Might you remember this?
Might you remember this?
The old stone colleges? Damp dawns?
The word-full classrooms that you met in?
Comparing notes on wide green lawns?
The grand half-chapeled hall that we ate in?
Did you find how English flowed in you
With just a little more ease?
And unexpected learnings grew
Soaked in the Cambridge breeze?
The buses, river, ancient walls.
The bread. The fish. The chips. The peas.
Showers with sunny intervals
Spanish, Czech, Polish, Japanese.
The pull of ancient histories.
The climbing flowers and the bees.
Quaint medieval sanctuaries.
One slice of ham. One slice of cheese.
And those three, tall, gorgeous trees.
Memory’s an edit.
Whole frames go rotten.
I’ve been around a while;
Trust me, much gets forgotten.
Who knows if these days will stay with you.
Framed. Embossed.
Or if it’s just another something
Soon enough lost.
Back in that other place, your land,
You’ll re-find routines soon enough
And this, no longer close at hand,
Just photo-album story stuff.
Some memories are made of feather.
Some are made of stone.
A hundred ways to get here.
And one hundred ways home.
So…will you remember this?
The old stone colleges? Damp dawns?
The word-full classrooms that you met in?
Comparing notes on wide green lawns?
The grand half-chapeled hall that we ate in?
Did you find how English flowed in you
With just a little more ease?
And unexpected learnings grew
Soaked in the Cambridge breeze?
The buses, river, ancient walls.
The bread. The fish. The chips. The peas.
Showers with sunny intervals
Russian, Italian, Portuguese.
The pull of ancient histories.
The climbing flowers and the bees.
Quaint medieval sanctuaries.
One slice of ham. One slice of cheese.
And the trees.
Jim Scrivener
(With Mr. Scrivener’s kind permission)
I'm sure I will remember all this. Who won't? Who wouldn't?
