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09 April 2007

Dancing in Cambridgeshire

One of the many things I love about England is the many opportunities to dance. There are weeklong and weekend dancing festivals, various regional dances throughout the week, and, of course, there is the Cecil Sharp House, which is the heart of the English folk dance society. I encourage you to take a dance class at the Cecil Sharp House, or attend a Barn Dance or one of the many other fun activities there. There are few things I love more than dancing, and it's just one of those things that I wish everyone could experience. It's just so much fun! And great exercise, too.

Recently, I went up to Ely, Cambridgeshire for a special dance. For me, it's an indulgence, to spend the time and money to dance away from London, but it's always worth it. And, these dancing trips provide the chance to check out another part of the English countryside. And, the getting-there is fun: I love knitting on the train rides.

I quickly learned not to call Ely a "quaint village" because everyone was quick to correct me, "It's not a village; it's a CITY!"

OK, now I understand that if a "village" has a "cathedral", then it is officially referred to as a "city". People apparently take great pride in this distinction. It doesn't matter, though, Ely will always be a quaint village to me.

I made the mandatory stop at the cathedral. I've heard so much about this cathedral, but quite frankly, I've seen a million cathedrals in my time, and they just don't move me. Besides, this cathedral represents a religion not my own, which makes me even more detached.

What I was most interested in seeing in Ely (aside from the dance, of course), was the Oliver Cromwell House, seen here on the right.

I do love authentic timber-framed houses like this, even if it once belonged to a historical figure that I truly dislike. I recently wrote a paper on Oliver Cromwell, for my M.A. degree. And believe me, by the time I finished researching Cromwell, there was nothing left to like.

Which explains my twisted sense of joy at seeing the poorly curated museum. It was really laughable. Not that I'm a museum curator or anything, but come on, not only were the clothes marginally accurate, but they were ill fitted, and the dummies were sometimes downright scary!

The best part of the house was the kitchen, with its fireplace and great table of fake food.

I think my favorite thing were these dead rabbits. It's hilarious! Of course, it's authentic to a 17th-century kitchen, and as a milliner who works with fur (and who owns a fur coat designed by her sister), I love to see dead animals on the wall. It's so politically incorrect! I love it! And it makes me laugh to think that it's only a matter of time before the silly PETA people get their bloody hands involved. I'm sure they'll think it a great achievement to get these rabbits taken down.

Here we have Oliver Cromwell in his study. Now this looks like an innocent-enough image, but quite frankly, when I was in this room, I screamed, for every ten seconds or so, Cromwell's head moves from side to side! Horrors! Not only do we have a poorly curated museum, but the dummies move!

And here we have Cromwell, dead in bed. Finally.

Copyright ) 2007 KnittingJenny

jenny [at] knittingjenny [dot] com