Comparing Cambridge to Oxford is an
irresistible thing to do, so why should we be any different? While Oxford is an upbeat and
self-assured kind of town, Cambridge is a gloomier, quieter and therefore altogether more
interesting place. It sits amidst a damp, flat, featureless part of the country. It’s
more out on a limb, has less to do with London. It also represents a quality drinking day
out.
Not that the football ground has much to do with any of this. If you have
visited Cambridge as a tourist you will have admired the picturesque streets and the time
honoured college architecture, and enjoyed a pleasant stroll by the riverbank. You will
not have noticed a football ground. That is because the ground is not remotely near the
centre. The ground is a small and unlovely place in an unremarkable suburb. It
doesn’t really have much to do with the Cambridge everyone knows about. The students
who fill the town don’t beat a path up here to support their local club. It might as
well be in another town altogether.
Neither is the railway station close to the centre. It is fair to say that
the area around the station does not match anyone’s mental picture of Cambridge. You
can usually see tourists staring out of the train carriage window at the industrial
surroundings wondering what kind of place they have come to. There’s little around
here by way of eating and drinking either. I remember a desperate trawl of the streets in
1995 hoping to turn up a chippy. It was unforthcoming.
Seasoned away travellers will by now have guessed that, although neither
station nor ground are near the centre, this does not mean that they are close to each
other. Centre, station and ground form three points of a loose triangle. If you’re
aiming for the centre, it’s straight down the road from the station then turn right.
As for directions to the ground, I’ve only done it from here via numerous pubs, so I
couldn’t really say. I have visited Cambridge twice as a football supporter, as
opposed to a tourist. First visit was in early 1995 in the FA Cup. From that I can only
recall two pubs, so I obviously had quite a good time, although I have extremely fuzzy
recollections of other pubs around the centre, including one possibly with oars on the
ceiling. Second visit came in 1999, and although this allowed for further research, our
game was unfortunately on a midweek evening. Why do we have to play at dreary towns like
Luton on a Saturday when those days could be put to better use for places like this? Sure,
an afternoon was made of it, but many pubs in Cambridge don’t open in the afternoons.
They generally seem to shut after lunch and re-open in the late afternoon or early
evening. Why this might be I do not know, but it seems remarkably uncivilised,
particularly in a town full of students, although round here they seemed more interested
in book shops than beer shops; studentdom clearly isn’t what it was in my day.
If you’re looking for midweek afternoon drinking, our old friends
Wetherspoon’s come to the rescue. One thing you can guarantee, along with the
availability of food and drinkable beer, is that they will be open from eleven to eleven.
It’s part of the policy. Hence, although there are better pubs, the Regal on
St Andrew’s Street got our grateful custom. As the name might hint, this is a pub
converted from a huge former cinema. Being something of a cineaste, I faintly disapprove
of cinemas being used for any other purpose, but a small cinema has been retained upstairs
above the pub. The whole place is done out in a lush mock cinema style, which is kind of
amusing, and beers were pretty much the standard range, with Shepherd Neame Spitfire on
reasonable form.
Incidentally, my advice is to take any opportunity not to drink Greene
King you can get. Greene King must be the blandest and least innovative of the regional
brewers, yet unfortunately they enjoy something of a local monopoly. Most Greene King pubs
– which is most pubs in Cambridge – sell two beers. The Abbot I find quite
drinkable, but at 5% it’s too much for any lengthy session. Their bog standard beer
is IPA, and to my mouth this a thin, pallid and unsatisfying brew. Shame there’s so
much of it around.
Also close by, if I remember right, bordering the patch of green you walk
across coming from the station is a Hogshead of reasonable quality. It was while walking
over this land en route to the train home in 1995 that the ‘Ted McMinn’ chant
was invented, trivia buffs may wish to note. From touristic visits I seem to recollect a
second Hogshead down by the river, along with a large food-oriented pub in a picturesque
riverbank setting that sold decent beer. The two Hogsheads listed in their directory, the Hogshead
(imaginative name, huh?), Avery Buildings, Regent Street and the Cambridge Bath Hotel,
Benedick Street, may well be these.
But enough of chain houses and vague memories. One pub that definitely
isn’t just like everywhere else is the Cambridge Blue, on Gwydir
Street. This claims to be the only Nethergate house in the land, and indeed sells a good
range of that fine brewery’s products. They also have a large collection of hats. The
pub is partly no-smoking and mobile phones are not tolerated. As if you couldn’t
guess, the landlord is something of an eccentric fellow and the pub is his domain. A word
of caution about the toilets: these are designated by the male and female gender signs, so
it helps if you know which is which. One’s a circle with a cross, one’s a circle
with an arrow. More than one person came a cropper. There’s also a separate food
area, but I can’t recall whether they serve Saturdays. The pub is perhaps a fifteen
minute walk from the station, although the route was fairly complex. Allow yourself the
luxury of a couple here. Apparently they also have a little train in the garden, unless
someone’s having me on.
Another strongly recommended pub is the Elm Tree on Orchard Street.
Yes it does sound nice, doesn’t it? This is a very pleasant stop selling Charles
Well’s. It’s a long pub, brown, well-kept and friendly. The landlord has a fish
tank in which he keeps baby sharks, or at least that’s what the man who sold them
said. We had our doubts. Light jazz music burbles in the background and the jazz is live
some nights, but don’t let that put you off. If you’re a night visitor, you
should note that the pub doesn’t open until 4.30. We were a tad early, and some of
our crew tried the pub opposite, reporting that the beer was dreadful. A far more
interesting way to spend a few minutes is to look round the grocer’s shop nearby.
This is one of those old fashioned places with stuff in jars, everything behind the
counter and packets of things they don’t make any more in the windows.
If from here you amble through the narrow streets of the centre, you will
eventually come to a turning onto Castle Street. The centre is permanently crowded, which
is frustrating if you’re trying to get anyway in a hurry and pretty choked with
traffic at predictable times. Far more of a menace are the bicycles. They’re
absolutely everywhere. Of course they don’t make a sound. Storming between pubs
carries the risk of collision, but that aside, it’s a pleasant walk. Castle Street is
a hill – there’s always a hill – on which – have a guess – the
castle used to stand. Now there’s just a raised mound, which is rather dull. Ignore
this, and head instead to the nearby Castle. Although I found the service rather
grumpy, the beers in this large pub and multi-levelled pub are by Adnams and there are
guests. Bateman’s Dark Mild on our 1999 visit was divine. If you’re up here
you’re a long way from the ground, but so what?
Continuing further up you come to Histon Road, on which you’ll find
the Grapes. As with most of the pubs mentioned on this page, it’s listed in
the 2000 Good Beer Guide. For once, I can’t think why. It struck me as a standard,
rather dull locals' pub and my pint of (inevitably) Greene King IPA was absolutely
undrinkable. Easily the worst of the day and not worth seeking out.
From here by some inexplicable route we came to the Portland Arms
on Chesterton Road. Again, this was nothing special. Yet another Greene King pub, a big
place, pretty rough and ready, and something of a doubtless lively music venue in the
evenings.
Experience of pubs closer to the ground is limited. The Wrestlers,
on Newmarket Road, is on the way up towards it. However, I seem to remember that in 1995
it was something of a struggle getting in, and they don't really do away fans. I suppose
if you're not wearing colours you might get lucky, as I believe one or two others did on
our latest visit, but I don't suppose you could count on it. Shame, as I recollect it
being a decent enough pub. It’s one of about a million pubs these days that does Thai
food, with beers from Adnams, amongst others.
The Zebra, on Maids Causeway, is also supposed to be a
twenty minute walk from the ground. Can’t say for sure, as we cabbed it in 1999.
Although it’s the usual Greene King house, their IPA was better than most. Our hosts
were friendly, and cheap and good evening food was available, which is clearly what you
want for a night match. We’ve drunk in most animals, but it’s quite rare to
drink in a zebra. Our opening game of the season was in High Wycombe, where we drank in
the Antelope, and I couldn’t help wishing we’d played Cambridge on the last day
so we could do all the animals in between, in order. Admittedly Qs would have been a tall
order and I’m aware that the Xylophone is not strictly speaking a member of the
animal kingdom, but I’m sure drinkers like us would have risen to the challenge.
Once you arrive at the ground, be prepared to pass through a gate where a
sign warns you to ‘beware of grazing animals’ and walk across a field to the
away end. The away end itself is a shallow open terrace which has one of the most splendid
and evocative names in English football – the Allotment End. That tells you something
about where you are, and you can indeed see the allotments behind it. There’s also a
small section of seats to the left reserved for away fans. This is not to indulge in
feelings of superiority. I genuinely like coming here, and our 1999 visit, for a cold,
hard-thought and almost entirely skill free encounter was a flashback to the old division
four days, with us stood behind the goal under the stars singing daft songs. I even got
the next to last pie, although I sincerely wished I hadn’t. However, I understand
that this may all be about to change as, after many years of prevarication, they have
finally been given the go ahead to redevelop the place. Once they’ve built some new
allotments somewhere else, naturally.
