The London Coffee Festival 2012

Goody Bag PILE :-O

I have a confession to make. I’m an addict. Yes, I’m admitting to it. Coffee has a hold on me like nothing else does. Pretty much, anyway. So what's a coffee addict to do when the London Coffee Festival tosses ads and invites my way every day via email for months in advance? Give in to temptation, of course!

It was only in its second year but it was clearly a ginormous hit. The lofty Shoreditch showroom was completely packed...packed like the ground espresso beans in each filter basket of every portafilter (sorry, I couldn't resist). 5 zones, named after areas of London (Soho and Shoreditch, for example) connected to create a winding pathway of sensory stimulation: aka coffee heaven...or at least a space to sample the best the independent London coffee scene has to offer. Unlimited, real artisan coffee. From dozens of different brewers.

Zone 1, Hyde Park: After waiting in a long line – or should I say QUEING – in the pouring rain and wind and cold, we ascended the concrete steps and emerged in this, the largest room, with high ceilings and white walls and live music wafting toward us from its center. The location and the band and the attendees each decked in blacks and browns and sweaters and earth-tones and leather and skinny jeans all combined to scream 'Indie', which was totally fine by me. In this room you could approach any stand and ask for a latte, a flat white, a cappu, or a tiny espresso shot and you could try 100 drinks for free, if you wanted, while still enjoying the slow-made perfection of each creation. Nothing was rushed and each drink, as coffee ought to be, was made with tender love. In the back of this zone was the Tea Garden, for all those Brits who can't survive without their nice cuppa. Leafy experts and master herbalists offered new product samplings and the latest innovations in tea. The adjacent Chocolate Factory was, well, such a delightful array of chocolate based awesomeness that we had to pass through several times. It's impossible to have too much chocolate.

Zone 2, Soho: Naturally, the room for the avant gard, edgier coffee experiences. Here you could watch the coffee being roasted, watch live barrista demos, and soak up those excellent aromas.

Zone 3, The Showroom: New for 2012, this room housed the barrista championships and showcased the latest equipment and newest innovations, for in your home or in a coffee house. On the UKBC stage they “celebrate[d] the art of coffee making in what is considered the hardest of the SCAE competitions, testing coffee knowledge, presentation, preparation and all round barista ability. The winner of this year’s competition will represent the UK at the World Barista Championships in Vienna, Austria on 12th-15th June.”

Zone 4, The Lab: The smallest of the rooms was used for live demonstrations and talks, workshops and story-telling. The Brew Bar, facing opposite, demonstrated purest brewing techniques including stovetop, aeropress, and drip methods.

Zone 5, Shoreditch: The always-necessary food room where you could sample and buy a range of gourmet products.

Oddly enough, I wasn't tweaking out on caffeine after 3 hours of sampling. I think I was actually so tired that the typical jolt I ought to have gotten barely brought me back to normal operating levels.....to some homeostatic balance in an unbalanced world, I suppose.

The 158th Oxford v Cambridge Boat Race

In its 158 years of running, the Oxford versus Cambridge Boat Race has never seen such excitement and drama. Unfortunately, I don't think many of the spectators saw the events that unfolded that dreary, drizzly Saturday morning. It isn't easy chasing those racers upstream, even on land, by bus...which we tried to do, to catch the end of the race after having watched the beginning. 

After the initial preamble of selecting starting stations (apparently) the race was off. Reviewers claimed Oxford had the better chance of winning that day based on their record that season and indeed it was Oxford that looked the best at a cool 44 strokes a minute (they say), slightly over-rating Cambridge and taking an early ¼ length lead. 

By the first mile the boats were still largely neck-and-neck, no advantage to either. “And this was how the race proceeded with neither crew giving any quarter, Oxford holding on around the outside of the Surrey bend but unable to move away from the light blues as they raced under Hammersmith Bridge and on towards Chiswick. With the wind now behind them and both crews showing great heart and determination it was shaping up to be a truly fantastic race.” Film crews and umpires and the like followed closely in the wake of the rowers.

But this entire preamble accounted for nothing.

The Oxford coxswain shot her hand in the air, followed immediately by a red flag from the Umpire to stop the race. “Amid some confusion on the river a swimmer who would have been mown down by the flotilla of following boats if the race had continued, was spotted between the two crews.” The jerk in the river, Trenton Oldfield, 35, caused the annual contest on the River Thames to be stopped for around half an hour after he was spotted in the vessels' path as crews battled towards the finish. He is a self-titled anti-elitist who's aim was to protest the race, apparently, in the manner of “civil disobedience”. He narrowly avoided the blade of an Oxford oar, was pulled from the river, was taken away on a police launch and arrested. 

Oldfield, who lives in a run-down block of flats in Myrdle Street, east London, later defended his anti-elitist stance online, claiming he had always "fought from within". He added: "Still waiting for someone to show me when elitism (seeing oneself above another) hasn't lead to oppression and tyranny?" His bail condition bans him from using or being within 100 metres of roads which form part of the Olympic torch route.

The race was restarted from Hammersmith Bridge, around the 2-mile point. Then just 35 seconds into the restarted race Oxford on the outside of the bend were continuously warned to move away from Cambridge. “This they failed to do and a clash was inevitable. A clash in which the Dark Blues came out the worst and which cost them the race as Hanno Weinhausen six in the Oxford crew emerged from it with no spoon on the end of his blade.” Effectively the Race was over and Cambridge moved steadily away from the 7 man Oxford crew over the next few minutes to win by 4 and a quarter lengths.

Despite the Oxford crew’s appeal at the end of the Race Umpire Garrett declared Cambridge the winner. “But the drama wasn’t quite over Alex Woods Oxford’s bow man had collapsed after crossing the finish line and was lying unconscious in the boat, having given everything to prevent his team’s loss. Cambridge President David Nelson seemed bemused and described the Race in his laconic fashion as “pretty dramatic” while expressing his concern for his Dark Blue rival.”

Oxford's bow, Dr. Alex Woods, collapsed in the boat...

After the Race there was no presentation ceremony as both sides showed their concern for Woods who was taken to Charing Cross hospital immediately afterwards, where he was recovering well a short time later. This was a truly dramatic afternoon of sport, one in which the Umpire was adjudged to have made all the correct decisions in an unprecedented race, and in which many people probably didn’t notice that Ed Bosson had become the youngest ever winning Cambridge cox. Poor guys.

Luckily for us (?) with the halt in the middle, we saw both the beginning, as I said, and the finish of the race...and that was that.

Cambridge, Again, Finally!

King's, through the Chapel window

As the title suggests, I FINALLY was able to revisit Cambridge! It's been nearly three years since June of 2009 when I landed in London, geared up and ready to undertake a full summer of studying abroad at THE university I'd dreamed of - and then planned on - attending as a student since, well, forever! As cliché as it sounds, that summer was life-changing. Yes, yes, most people return from a studying or working abroad experience saying the exact same thing, that it was the best time of their life and that it changed them forever, for the better. For me, it was all of that, times ten to the billionth power. Yes, exactly that number. I fell so deeply in love with England that I knew I had to go back; I had to live there, like, for good. For forever and ever and ever. England was the one place I finally felt truly happy and comfortable and at home. And now here I am again. I made it happen. I’m back. For good.

To revisit the place it all began was a heartwarming experience. *releases a sigh of fondness for nostalgia's sake* I'd been looking for the right opportunity to get away from London to travel back up to Cambridge since my re-arrival in the UK last September, but it wasn't until now that I was actually invited back. While I would have gone on my own I was much more interested in going with someone, ideally someone who would love and appreciate it as much as I do. A fellow Cambridge-ite, a current master's student I’m quite close friends with, suggested I come up for the weekend. I took the bait, the offer, and booked a room at Trinity College and a round trip train ticket from King's Cross, and set out bright and early one Saturday morning on my North-bound journey. 

Our first Formal at King's, June 2009

Same girls, our Last Formal at King's, August 2009

By 7:45 that day I was on my way. The 45 minute jaunt was nothing and breezed by in a matter of minutes, seemingly, because all of a sudden the train was cruising gently past the Cambridge University Press and docking at the station. My first taxi ride in months was through those old, familiar, homey streets of cozy, peaceful Cambridge and down the Backs, where I met up with my buddy who was staying adjacent to me at Clare College (which is right next door to King's College, the one and only, for those of you familiar with the territory and the school).

Trinity College, where I stayed

It felt like I'd never left. Though that's likely due to the fact that the University hasn't substantially changed in centuries. But still. Just as I remembered. Oh, nostalgia. 

My room's view, towards King's College in the background.

My room in Trinity. I love the high ceilings. Yes, I notice these things.

The view out my window toward Clare College.

Trinity Dining Hall

The first thing I begged to do, after dumping my luggage, was return to Benet's, my favorite cafe/coffee stop overlooking the King's gateway. Not only does Benet's offer the most magnificent view in the city, in my opinion, but it definitely serves some of the best coffee, as well. I know; I've looked. Awake and caffeinated, we then set off down Trumpington Street toward the Fitzwilliam Museum and, of course, my old townhouse facing it. Unfortunately, I was an idiot and had my photo taken in front of the wrong door. In my defense, they all look exactly the same. Well, minus the numbers meant to differentiate each house. But, c'mon, gimme a break! It's been 3 years! Interestingly, that photo managed to get deleted off my computer. I swear. Otherwise I'd show you :)

So we went to the Fitwilliam Museum next because, as y'all know, I can't get enough art in a day. We spent a lot of time wandering the old, familiar cobbled streets, walking through the campuses and the cathedrals, taking photos (all the ones in this post are mine), and, for me, reminiscing about “old times” like any old fart would.

King's College Chapel

Having already lived in Cambridge once, revisiting for just two days was enough. I just wanted enough time to say 'hey' to everything that made me fall in love with England in the first place.

CU Botanical Gardens