Ever since we were sent home so abruptly back in the middle of March, I’d been longing to return back to Cambridge. The mysticism that surrounds our university: the formals, the bops, the vibes (I’ve been spending a fair amount of time with freshers). Currently, we have very little of what initially resembled a Cambridge student lifestyle. And yet, writing as I am, in the midst of week 5, in the middle of a pandemic, I can honestly say that, so far, I’ve really enjoyed this term.

“I also live in accommodation which is slightly away from the arguably too-watchful (*read: totalitarian) view of main college”

Of course, I am coming from an extremely privileged position. I am a second year, so I have already made friends throughout the past year. I also live in accommodation which is slightly away from the arguably too-watchful (*read: totalitarian) view of main college. And lastly, I have the good fortune of doing a four-year degree, meaning that if I graduate without having been to a May Ball by the time it’s 2023, I’m sure both myself, and the world, will have far more impending problems to face.

Perhaps a more cynical person would disregard the aforementioned saving graces, and is currently resenting my lack of lament over a term spent without Cindies. Yet I’ve been to Cindies, sat down with my group of 6 at least once a week this term, and the only thing I didn’t enjoy was the amount of money I’d spent on what are essentially diluted J20s. But that was a problem for the morning after, anyway. The pubs and restaurants were, for large parts of the term, filled with students, pouring money back into a city that lost over twenty-five million in revenue as a result of students not being around in Easter term.

As a consequence of the new government instructions, I’ve been on walks with people, and it’s genuinely been so great to speak to people in the middle of the daytime. Amidst blatant copyright from Camfess, it’s undeniably true that the Pret queue has become the new Cindies. Likewise, sitting on King’s parade eating your lunch is the new 3am trip to Van of Life. I’m glad to be doing university from here, and not home. It’s the little things, like logging off from your zoom class and being able to actually walk around college, instead of just downstairs to the kitchen, that truly make all the difference.

“Perhaps a more cynical person would disregard the aforementioned saving graces, and is currently resenting my lack of lament over a term spent without Cindies”

It’s nigh-on impossible nowadays for anybody to write an article without mention of Covid policy, and so, here we are. Let’s be honest, is it not just banter, arguably enigmatic too, watching the archaic colleges pertaining to this university, frolic nonchalantly in their heavily conflicting policies, knowing full well that students from different colleges speak to each other? Is it not almost intangibly exciting, just listening to the rumour mill of intercollegiate policy? Whether it’s that the porters of college A deny Covid, or that the master of college B has deemed himself completely immune, there always seems to be some sort of Covid related controversy.

What this, if nothing else, has shown, is that the Cambridge bubble is far more tight-knit than most, if not all other universities across the UK. Studies have shown that certain universities, such as Manchester, have recorded 450 Covid cases in the space of 2 days (1st to 2nd October 2020) meanwhile, over the period from the 5th of October up until the 8th of November, Cambridge has recorded comparatively few, at 338. As much as the anarchist within you may hate to admit it, Cambridge University, as an institution, has its perks. Whether it’s the advantage of weekly testing, or the endorphin boosting walks past King’s parade, I’m glad to say that the pleasure I’ve always taken in being here hasn’t been lost. This term, it’s just manifested itself differently. It could be labelled purist. It could be labelled minimalist. At the end of the day, it is what it is.