I love England, I really do, but I LOVE Cambridge. As in, I feel joy-filled and cozy and comfortable and safe and home when I’m there. My mother, for the most part, was raised on the outskirts of Cambridge, and I’ve been spending time there since I was 6 weeks old. In college, I lived in Cambridge for one glorious semester, and I’ve been scheming of ways to become of permanent resident ever since (Jon is now scheming, too). I have regular pubs, shops, and market stalls I have frequented for years. I have seen businesses and restaurants come and go. Tragically, I’m now only able to spend a day or two in Cambridge each year (since my family moved an hour away, to the countryside), but every time I step off the bus and look around, I feel I’ve come home.
