Day tripping

There is no other word to describe Cambridge this past week except DEAD. Few by few we trudge back to campus begrudgingly from our winter break getaways, only to find that it is even colder, grayer, and emptier than the Wolfson we left.

Clearly, the only solution to this dilemma is... another getaway!

Thus Frenchy B and I took off to London for the day. Though London is a mere one hour train ride from here, trips were a rare commodity in my mind, with even an invented quota of sorts I had set for myself since the train ride is fairly costly for just an in-and-out trip. B and I, however, are true rebels, and I managed to devise a way to get us a very nice discount on this and future trips into the city. Unfortunately it is a well-guarded secret which I can only divulge if you come to London with me. So until then, tough luck.

The day's plan was to see the exhibit on Henri Rousseau at the Tate Modern and to help B lose his musical virginity, both completed with extreme success! If you can get to the Tate Modern before February 5, I highly recommend the Rousseau exhibit. I've always been a fan of Rousseau but always had misconceptions about his work. First, he doesn't only paint jungles. Second, he never traveled all over the world through jungle after jungle for inspiration for all of his landscapes. He actually painted them based on the greenhouse in Paris' Jardin des Plantes and never even left France. Anyway, I have decided to spend my future fortune on originals of Carnival Evening and The Snake Charmer for my future home kitchen-slash-art gallery. I am convinced they would make lovely complements to the Mona Lisa on my refrigerator.

The rest of the museum did a good job of stretching by all lengths of the imagination what I would consider art. I have nothing against modern art ala Rousseau or Andy Warhol, but as B put it, "I don't want to have to think about why it's art." After all, when more people are looking at the fabulous cityscape view than the art, there is something wrong, no?

The trip continued, as mentioned, with one musical virgin and one musical nympho. The show of the day was Blood Brothers, one of the longest running musicals in London. Perhaps it's lost its polish? I had read mixed, but mostly good reviews on it, but a part of me just couldn't really get into it. My conclusion is that instead of the tragic ending, the narrator should have been shot well before the first scene, and Eddie should have married Marilyn Monroe. Being the musical junkie I am, I can't say I didn't enjoy it, especially because it's always fun to help someone lose any kind of virginity, but perhaps a 3rd run at Les Mis would have been a better choice?

I suppose any good trip just like any good fantasy must come to an end, and so it did. Back in my room at Cambridge, I'm at least content to know that a quick escape is only a cheap one-hour trip away.