First off, a small introduction. I am Nancy. Recently graduated and very confused about what I should do with regards to absolutely everything, one decision was made, alongside with my partner in crime
Vee, to create a blog to ramble about our goings
ons. And I am very
rambling, as you will you soon find out! I felt compelled to write about my recent journey to Cambridge for the Syd Barrett celebration event 'The City Wakes' to take part in a guided tour of one of my hero's hometowns....
Last week I went to Cambridge for the first time, for 'The City Wakes', a celebration of Syd Barrett's life and vast contribution to music. Syd Barrett was the main man behind early Pink Floyd, kick-starting a psychedelic revolution and producing music of unparalleled importance.
I was a tad worried about plodding around a city that was completely new to me, but due to a very friendly vagrant I managed to find the meeting point for the tour with minutes to spare. I, along with several other senior Syd fanatics, were to be whisked around Cambridge, stopping off at various points of interest and intrigue. Our tour guide was a wonderful little lady. On top of her head was a terrific brown hat which wasn't dissimilar to a pork pie in appearance, and despite getting a few pink
floyd references incorrect(perhaps ruffling the feathers of some less-forgiving tour-goers), she was very genuine.
I was extremely fortunate to be joined by two of Syd's childhood chums, one of which later went on to roadie for the Floyd and the Rolling Stones. I had so many questions buzzing around my head to potentially ask them in the rare moments in between their talking, but when it came to it I could muster just a measly"thank you". I thanked them because the imagery in their words really brought Syd's early 60s world to life. They spoke of a (now-defunct) venue which had previously housed three floors of live music each night, including some of the very early Beatles and
Jimi Hendrix shows. A current Marks and
Spencers was, in a past life, a record store where Syd and his gang would cram into booths for hours on end to listen to the hippest record. I was kind of half-paying attention, half envisioning Syd running up and down these streets upon which I was standing, which was hard to take in.
Cambridge was a fascinating place. I was mesmerised by a new 1 million pound clock , recently unveiled by Professor Stephen Hawking, which had no hands but a rather disturbing insect/lizard type creature at the top 'eating through time', with tiny blue lights twinkling as minutes passed. We also passed Sir Issac Newton's apple tree (the one which, allegedly, enabled him to discover gravity when an apple fell on his head) who, perhaps coincidentally, first thought of the spectrum and refraction of light, which, along with the theme of time, features so heavily in later floyd stuff.
The tour finished up by the river rather poignantly as the pink floyd song 'Shine on you Crazy Diamond' was given a new lease of life, being read out to the group, its words ringing true more than ever.
It was quite a strange but satisfying feeling walking along the same streets that Syd once did, but one thing did niggle me. Whilst my small group stood by, gazing at these buildings of the past, no one else seemed that bothered by our presence, or the camera crew following us for that matter. My group had people from every corner of England, and even as far reaching as Italy (the poor bloke couldn't understand a word of English and most probably didn't have a clue what was being said but still you've got to admire his effort), yet the people of Cambridge seemed peculiarly nonchalant to the Syd stuff.
Nevertheless, this didn't dampen my spirits too much and I hurried on to an exhibition of Pink Floyd artwork by Storm
Thorgerson, who's done a load (well pretty much all) of their iconic album images (as well as some Mars Volta and Muse album artwork). It was great to see all the covers in one place and, just as I was rubbing my eyes to closely examine the price tags, an extraordinary thing occurred. The tour guide and her brown velvety hat popped out from nowhere! She recognised me somehow and, over a welcoming cup of tea, she immediately began to draw me a map of how to get to Syd's old house. I was incredibly grateful and, once again, lost for words, silently chomping on my biscuits.
I embarked on my journey to find this house which should have really only taken half an hour or so. But the winding streets of Cambridge, despite their beauty, were somewhat maze-like. This resulted in me becoming ridiculously lost and, by this time in the day my poor feet had got to the stage where they were so cold they were almost numb. I walked past the train station en route and thought to myself "I could be on that train now eating some more biscuits!" but that could wait. Once I finally got to the right house I didn't linger about. Above all, it was just a house. And all I could see from the outside was more hedge than house. It wasn't as if Syd was going to come running out the door at any moment. But still, he had done in the past. And that was enough.
