Narrow windows high up

As my exams came near I spent more and more time at home, looking out the window at the wet weather and feeling increasingly claustrophobic - alleviated only by brief trips to the library. I took both of these in moments of feeling idle - it feels slightly odd looking back at them now that my degree is finished for good. 

  

Even a morning without clouds

I went up to Lanchashire for the weekend at the start of September, just as it was starting to get dark earlier, with the rain dripping down the windows and no desire to leave the house. We stayed inside with homemade bread, ginger beer and wine, scaring ourselves with talk of horror films and the future. The next morning, we walked through the drizzle and I took these pictures that I'd been thinking of ever since I found this new mackintosh in Paris the month before.

They have turned them away on the mountains

At the end of the Easter term we drove from Cambridge to Yorkshire - passing Godmanchester, Retford and Thirsk along the way - for a weekend of picnics in the wind and bottles of ale drunk beside the sea. We climbed over stiles and waded through expanses of heather, lost our way on the map, and retreated in the cold to pubs to read the papers and have endless debates that always seemed to escalate into argument, with all of us refusing to back down. On Sunday we drove to Whitby, happening to coincide with the biannual goth festival there, which was both horrifying and very funny. On the final evening we ate spaghetti and drank whisky in front of Withnail and I, which after the weekend of comically bad picnic weather and lost routes felt appropriate.