Punting in Cambridge

The experienced professional punter – propelling boatloads of tourists along Cambridge’s river Cam – speaks of the simple sensory pleasure to be found in the interaction of the firm riverbed, the massive pole (wielded with a masterful delicacy) and the punt itself, pushing against the springy up thrust of the gentle waters. In fact, it is like driving a people carrier with a joystick from a seat where the luggage would usually go. Your punt will naturally be attracted to other pints, blocking the river under the sarcastic gaze of the city’s youth, who stop to watch your ineptitude from one of the many pretty bridges. Console yourself with the idea that perhaps punting was never meant to be done well. The point is to drift with languorous unconcern, admiring the beautiful college gardens and architecture, while disguising incompetence as abstraction and reverie.

This slow river is lined with some of the grandest architecture in the country. You recline almost at the water’s level as the great buildings rear around you in a succession of noble set-pieces. Perhaps the two most notable sights are the chapel at King’s College, a structure of forbidding single-minded authority, and Christopher Wren’s library for Trinity College, which has the same rigorous perfection that some many find refreshing (or overwhelming).

When you’re done punting, the colleges are wonderful places to explore, if they’ll let you in; the rules of access vary from college to college and season to season, although you can always behave as if you have a perfect right to walk wherever you like and see what happens.