Thursday, December 12th, 2024

The stress of living in Cambridge

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I’ve come to the conclusion that Cambridge is really stressful to live in. People say that big cities create stress- actually I think it’s the opposite. The smaller the place, the more packed people are into it, the more difficult it is to get things done.

This morning I woke up in a sticking mood. I don’t know why, I guess in part it’s down to the routine of every weekend (and start of the week) being more or less the same. I don’t like routine (actually it depresses me). Actually I know why, as a child I was forced to walk this stupid route to school so I could cross the road being properly attended. I could have crossed a busy road myself and cut the journey by half. I guess at the age of 4 things are shaped for future life.

I decided that I needed to get my finger out and do something, so decided London was on the cards. The trouble is that I was running late and so everything was a mad dash. It’s also raining and the place is humid – yuk !

On the way to the train station things were mixed. I didn’t suffer the usual 15 sets of red traffic lights (Cambridge loves traffic lights, I think it’s a way they like to control the pace of life). I hit stupid roadworks on the main bridge into the city. Their again doing roadworks- I’m sure again it’s to try and ensure that poor people who can’t afford to live near the city have an easy time (at the expense of us who make sacrifices and work hard to be able to live near the city). Still, it’s the UK and of course a few have to work for the many.

What I can’t believe about the roadworks is a set of signs telling people not to overtake cyclists. In this case, a fat guy on a bike clearly not really up to it.

Great – that 100 years of progress down the toilet – Cambridge traffic reduced to the pace of a cycle.

Get to the station. The usual disaster trying to buy a ticket. In this case, loads of language students not knowing what the hell they want, messing around with currency they don’t understand trying to buy tickets. It’s not helped by the mess that is the British rail system which offers numerous options for journeys. Strange, every where else in the world operate the following system:

Q: Where do you want to go ?
A:
Ticket arrives

In the UK, there’s always some form of dialog.

As I write this I’m on the train. Of course it’s totally packed and has a group of people shouting at each other (too loud to say talking).

Why can’t I live somewhere civilised ?

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