The 2008 Replicas Tour in 10 Riveting Chapters:
One man's mission to see the last 10 shows of the UK Replicas Tour
Chapter 6
Cambridge
Wolverhampton was good to me. And as my train cut through the black of early morning toward Birmingham, the sun began to appear over the horizon. At the New Street train station in Birmingham, I watched the big screens tell of platforms, times and destinations, but no word of Cambridge. I went to the info desk to learn my train would leave at 8:24 am and arrive in Cambridge at 12:10 pm.
It was only 6 am but the gift shop was open. I used the time to grab some postcards to send to friends and family back home. By the time I wrote them out, the Left Luggage desk was open to grab my backpack and wheeled duffel bag. With still almost 90 minutes to kill, I wandered outside to explore what I could of Birmingham.
I hadn't wandered around the home of Duran Duran since my friends Chris and Tina showed me the new Bull Ring area across the street. Until recently, this was a highly unsafe area to wander around but the new Bull Ring development has done wonders to modernize and almost gentifry the area.
Part of this new construction included a new downtown shopping mall I'd never seen, so I explored it with impunity. On the way, a couple of guys tried to persuade passersby to part with their change. The other side of the mall spilled out into Victoria Square in the center of town where I wheeled my luggage by a fountain with a statue of a bathing woman the locals call "the Floosie in the Jacuzzi".
It was all new, the walkways, coffee shops and the mall. In stark contrast to all the shiny glitz stood one of England's smallest cathedrals, the Cathedral Church of St. Philip built in the early 1700's. As I stood there the bells of the 300 year old building thundered and echoed off the newness to remind the city of its history.
But it was time to go. Gary Numan was to play in Cambridge tonight! I took another way back to the train station in hopes of finding a post box to drop the postcards into, but found none. Just outside the station I again passed the guys persuading for change, and I persuaded them that no one here wanted my near worthless American currency.
As I entered the train station I remembered that I still owed Gary a birthday card. I wandered into the gift shop and found a massively large card to make a big impression, but instead opted for a more tasteful card to express the best wishes for his 50th birthday.
I reached for my stash of postcards but they were gone! I searched through both my bags and had a looksee around the gift shop where I might have set them down, but to no avail. It was the oddest thing. I bought some more postcards to fill out later and made my way to the Cambridge train.
This was a nice change. There were no stops or layovers, just a straight shot right to Cambridge. I still hadn't slept since Norwich so this would give me a couple hours on the way to doze, and doze I did!
I regained consciousness 10 minutes before the train reached Cambridge. I had never been here before and I strained out the window for signs of any colleges. Paul had emailed me before I left for the UK and very kindly offered to show me around the city. He had recently gone to college here and was looking as forward to showing off his town as I was to seeing it. Thanks to Paul's credentials and student pass, I would see the place in a way no other tourist could.
I stepped off the train and breathed in the first impressions of this prestigious collegiate location. I stepped outside where Paul would be. I walked up and down the sidewalk and walked inside once more. He knew what I looked like from the NAGNFC website. Paul and I exhanged phone numbers but my battery was dying a slow death since being charged two days ago in Norwich.
All of a sudden, I happened upon this lone figure sighing into his cell phone. I asked him if it was Paul. Luckily it was him! I apologized for my cell phone battery. He became a little worried when my 12:00 train arrived from Birmingham without seeing me. It was good to finally meet him after all the emails. He asked if I was ready for a great day in Cambridge. I was lucky to have a personable and knowledgeable guide such as Paul.
But first I had to get settled into the Tenison Towers and drop off my gear. Being the eternal optimist I never made reservations. After all it was a Wednesday in March! Alas the Tenison was full, but luckily I was able to get in at the bed & breakfast next door. It was pricier than the Tenison, indeed it was the most I'd paid for a room outside of London, but it was close to everything and was clean.
I told Paul to make himself at home with the TV while I took a shower. I took only a quick shower as I knew Paul had a lot planned for us. The first stop was a great place to eat at his college where only alumni could dine. On the way, he showed me the place he'd picked out for the preshow party. The place was perfect. It was huge with lots of lounge chairs and tables.
Lunch was a buffet affair and very tasty. We talked over all things Numan as we ate and sipped hot tea. Paul said he was in the middle of writing his biography for Ken Russell when his computer had just crashed on him. I was about to tell him an easy way to recover the data using DOS when he told me that it was a Macintosh. I told him of an ethereal autobiography that I was writing about a girl I was engaged to in the subarctic about 10 years ago called Polar Opposites.
Energized by a rousing lunch, we walked a few blocks toward our first stop. There was a great vibe to the town. I live in a college town myself so Cambridge felt very much like home. I began to notice one of the quirks that sets Cambridge apart from other cities. Bicycles were absolutely everywhere. Everywhere I looked it seemed as if there were more bikes than cars! Cambridge's core is very compact and car unfriendly. Paul warned me in advance in case I was renting a car to get around England.
After awhile Paul stopped walking and pointed to a house on the corner in this quiet neighborhood we had wandered into. He announced that this corner house on Victoria St. is the former site of Spaceward Studios. It was here on the opposite corner from Clarendon Arms that Gary laid down a collection of demo songs exactly 30 years before that would eventually be released as The Plan. It was here that new wave was born. The studio room was the basement of 34 Clarendon Street and the control room was the basement of 19 Victoria Street. We peered through a grate to see a furnished basement apartment. I wonder if the residents know they brush their teeth in such hallowed real estate!
As Paul and I walked narrow medieval streets on the way to King's College. The Gothic architecture and ancient spires gave me the feel that I was finally seeing the quintessential England. This is a place that oozes history and tradition. Many places disallowed visitors or even picture-taking. One place where cameras were forbidden was the King's College Chapel. Finished by Henry VIII around 1516, it is as large and imposing as it is beautiful. I saw visitors' mouths drop open upon their first glimpses inside. Intricate tracery and carvings soared incredibly high before exploding into a series of stone fireworks. I had never seen a larger, more intricate display of wood carvings along the walls on the way to the chapel.
I saw more examples of thick wood carvings in the stalls used by the world famous choir that performs there. Their Carols on Christmas Eve are beamed around the globe. On the way to the exit, side chapels charted the methods of building set against its historical panorama.
We walked in and around the historic buildings with their lavishly decorated dining halls and lecture spaces. Paul used his pass to get us into quiet, untouristed nooks of the college where the architecture and history was no less spectacular.
An amusing part of the tour was a visit across the Bridge of Sighs to St. John's College and an apartment complex that looked uninspiring and drab compared to the rest of the area. It stood out as an example of poor design and planning in contrast to the breathtaking structures that surrounded it. I mean what were they thinking? Paul said it best when he exclaimed that he architecture goes from Venitian splendour to Mexican botch!
Walking over a stone bridge with the world famous Cambridge punters quietly rowing below us, I was telling Paul about my bad luck trying to find a copy of the Are 'Friends' Electric picture disc that was currently on the independent charts. Paul took us on the short walk back to town where we went to a Fopp shop. A Fopp in Manchester had yielded no results. I asked the kind chap at the front if they had any copies of AFE. He leafed through a box on the front cover. I heard angels sing as he pulled out his last copy of this well-selling single.
We wandered downstairs where we browsed through a large collection of DVDs. I found the CD soundtrack of Blade Runner, which Paul and I were both fans of. Paul bought a DVD he thought he'd never find and took great delight telling his professor about it later that day. The Fopp store also had some Goodies DVDs in the comedy section. I've always been a fan of The Goodies since the age of 7, and it was a thrill to be here in Cambridge where the troupe got their start in the Cambridge Footlights. The original theatre where they and the Pythons honed their craft still existed and Paul would make it our next stop.
The Footlights Theatre was a small unassuming place with only the pictures on the wall reminding visitors of the exhaustive list of actors who got their start on that very stage. Paul talked the woman at the desk in the front into letting us in to see the stage. There were students there rehearsing and preparing for an upcoming production. I snapped off some quick pictures feeling bettered for the experience of seeing the birthplace of some of my favorite comedy.
Paul was about to show me one of the UK's best kept secrets. I'm not even sure if I should mention it here. Stashed away on one campus in an unassuming looking building was a jaw-dropping collection of Greek artifacts 2000 years old and even older. Over the years, Britain acquired these from Greece on various excursions and in my country, possession is 9/10ths of the law! Without a hint of the treasures that lay inside, these statues and artifacts were in pristine condition for people who knew where to find them. With no signage or fanfare about the collection, Paul and I were the only ones viewing these amazing ancient works of art.
Paul led me outside and through tree-lined paths filled with bicycles rushing past us in a seemingly orchestrated choreograph of movement. Hundreds of 2 wheeled machines rolled by yet nothing collided. What seemed like a sprinkle of rain was only a brief refreshing spritz as we walked to the next destination: Stephen Hawkins' complex of labs. From the outside, it looked very futuristic. Gene Roddenberry would have been proud.
I exclaimed to Paul that I always thought Stephen was American. Turns out that more than comedic artists, Cambridge spawned a host of scientific pioneers. According to Wiki, even Benjamin Franklin conducted some of his famous kite experiments here.
The campus was quiet and Paul showed me the building where Stephen's office was. I thought everything would be locked up tight, but as we approached that building we saw someone just saunter inside, so we followed suit! Inside was a white board with all manner of scientific notations, perhaps by the man himself! I sneaked off with a photo of the board and we left to further explore the campus. We happened upon the campus cafe, took a break and had a snack among the students.
We walked into town to see if there was anyone at the preshow party. It was getting a bit late and we had missed the fun, so Paul scored us a taxi to drop our purchases off in my room so we could enjoy the Numan concert unhindered with belongings. I ran up to my room while Paul held the cab for me. I grabbed by Machman jacket hen as the song goes, "we took a taxi to the show". It was a quick ride and as we arrived I was still adjusting the buckles and straps of my outfit.
Walking to the building we noticed four people in the queue ahead of us. Jeanette was among them as well as a couple of other Numanoids we made fast friends with. It was terribly windy and we watched passersby almost topple over from the wind. But luckily for us in the queue it was warm.
For showing me around town, I offered Paul a spare ticket I had for Cambridge. He gave it to a professor friend of his that had never seen a Numan show. We would hopefully initiate him as the UK's newest Numanoid that evening! By now it was clear my camera battery was about to fail like my Mallory Heart. There was a large upscale plaza next to us with fancy chain eateries, but no place to purchase a disposable camera. I snapped off some good pics inside anyway.
The line behind us filled quickly, almost instantaneously. The staff came outside to inform those without a ticket that there were only 20 left for the evening's performance. This was followed by an audible groan by the hopeful among us eager to buy a ticket at the door. As we waited for the doors to open, the staff kept appearing to change the handmade sign telling us how many tickets were left.
The doors opened as Numanoids rushed inside. I had my confirmation voucher to pick up my ticket so Paul and his friend kindly held a spot for me in the front with them as I garnered my ticket. As people streamed by, the nice gentleman told me that my ticket was already mailed to my home in the USA. I started to suspect that I had mistakenly given away my ticket to Paul's friend.
I appealed to the gentleman telling him I had traveled from a land very far away. I asked him what he recommended could be done? He looked into his computer and told me it was my lucky day. With the hundreds outside and already inside to see Numan perform, there was exactly one ticket left. He gave it to me as I simultaneously thanked him and ran inside to meet my friends.
The place was pretty small. In fact, it had the casual vibe of an American Numan show, especially with the camaraderie of the student population who had come to party with us tonight. Paul and I explained to the professor the correct procedure to enjoy Are Friends Electric and we practiced the arm motions.
It wasn't long before Rubiks came out to entertain Cambridge. They were good as always but some of us became more than a little concerned when, during the climax of one song, the lead singer decided to climb onto the large drum of the kit with her high heeled shoes. Luckily, no one was injured and they left the stage to thunderous applause.
The Cambridge Junction was so small, the stage was slanted up against a corner. It put me in the mind of the very small show in Pontiac, Michigan during the Exile Tour which had much the same dimension. As with that show we were very near the stage despite UK's ubiquitous barrier in the front.
Gary put on a very powerful show that evening. What pictures I got were some of the best as I was so close, I was only a couple meters from guitarist Chris as he played all the tracks from Replicas. These campus performances were some of my favorite shows. I loved watching Gary reflect back to us all the positive energy gifted to him by our raucous applause!
Paul's professor friend wasn't seem as impressed as I'd hoped, or perhaps it was just unbecoming of a revered Cambridge professor to get too excited about anything. The show was interesting in that besides Paul, Jeanette and some folks in the queue, there weren't many familiar faces at this show. It was a little weird. In the States it can feel you are the only Numanoid left, but tonight there was a lot of fresh Nu-bies in the crowd that even knew the words to everything from the Replicas album.
The professor friend bid us a kind adieu as Paul asked if I was hungry. He bought us both dinner at one of the nearby restaurants. The chicken was amazing. We were engaged in witty banter about Gary Numan and I took off my punky gloves to more acclimate to the restaurant clientele. It was then we noticed the staff were putting up chairs and starting to close up shop.
As the bill was paid we hit up the waitress for a pen to exchange info and Paul asked if I was up for a drink as he knew a great place. As we left the restaurant we circled the nearby Junction for Numan bus. It was normally 90 minutes or so before Gary came out to take pictures with us. It was pretty eerie though. There was absolutely no one around, nary a soul. We further circled the building. Finally I spotted the tour bus deep inside some fencing. The entire scene was unpopulated. Paul asked if I wanted to stick around, but I didn't see much going on here.
As we walked back to town, I was surprised how close we were to downtown. It was the middle of the week, but there were still pockets of nightlife in the pubs. Paul's favorite pub was closed but we found a great place nearby. It was full of students, tables and drafts of everything. A DJ played 80's tunes like Scritti Politti and Dead or Alive and Paul requested some Numan. Paul scored us some drafts and we found a table and talked about Gary Numan and The Goodies. The place quieted in an instant when one patron loudly tried to smash the cigarette machine but quickly went back to normal loud pub crowd volume.
Paul and I started to talk about the NAGNFC. I told him it wasn't a great pleasure to report on the website that last year's opening performances by Ade Fenton went horribly, especially after having just met him in Manchester. He seemed very personable. I told Paul I was a huge fan of his album Artificial Perfect and said as much on the NAGNFC, and to Ade himself.
I didn't normally drink alcohol but after the show it tasted particularly good this evening. I was happy to be taking part in the Cambridge nightlife. It was late as we walked nearly empty streets as we talked lightheartedly about politics. Paul walked me to my bed and breakfast and pointed the way to the train station in the morning, literally a half a block away. I thanked Paul profusely for showing me around what became one of my favorite cities. Paul went out of his way to make me feel welcome in his city. Words can't express the thanks I have to him for taking the day to show off this amazing place. It is one thing to take a guide book and see the sights, but having a local guide who knows about all the good stuff makes the day 10 times more memorable! I hope to return the favor one day if he makes it over to my university based hometown.
It was now just after 2 am. The room was small but quiet. The first thing I did was charge the camera for the show in Brighton the next evening. It was definitely laundry day. I hadn't washed clothes since way back in Newcastle at Don's house. I checked my guide book but the closest laundry in Cambridge was way across town. I would have to arrive in Brighton early and make it my first order of business. There was a UK version of Cops on the TV but I found the local newspaper much more interesting with its listings of local events in Cambridge. I would surely have to return one day. But for now, Brighton awaited. The day would boast of the largest NAGNFC preshow party of the tour, and Gary would do things on stage he would later apologize for on his website.
But for now, surrounded by Cambridge's heart-stopping structures, arts scene and sidewalks trod upon by centuries of scholars, I slept like a lost angel who had finally found home.
Thanks, Paul!