Saturday, 3 January 2009
Ever since we have moved to Cambridge, all our friends have been nagging at us about punting. Those who have been to Cambridge tell us how they went punting, and those who haven't tell us how they have heard about it. Staffan has promptly refused to go punting, saying, perhaps not without reason, that the punt would sink if he stepped onto it. Neither Anton nor Julia showed any interest in this local pastime when they visited. So all my hope was on the eleven-year-old Filip, and yesterday we finally did it. It was rather cold, not really punting season, but there were apparently enough dumb tourists to make it worthwhile for the punting company. The punter was actually a student, although not at Cambridge. I must admit that the view of the city is remarkably different from the river, and the blankets we got to keep us warm almost made it bearable.