I have promised myself that in my new life I will not work on weekends. Today we went biking on the old towing path along the river. In five minutes we are in the countryside. There is a dragon boat race going on. An ancient boat – at least it looks ancient – is passing a tiny lock. A variety of waterfowl shows great interest in us, and we also surprise a heron. Here and there persistent anglers sit entangled in their lines. Hikers and cyclists greet each other heartily. The wind brings a smell of nettles.
After six miles we come to a pub and eat a light lunch. The pub is lively and truly genuine. Any minute Jerome K. Jerome might walk in.
Then we go back. The race goes on. Another boat is in the lock. More swans. A very ordinary Saturday in Cambridge.