20 03
Well.
Don’t believe everything the algorithm feeds you.
I planned a solo trip to Cambridge from London — same day the idea popped into my head, zero planning, zero apologies. That’s kind of my thing. Solo adventures are my thing. So is spiralling into what ifs before every single one of them. What if I get fined? What if the ticket’s a scam? I’d heard enough horror stories about rail cards and dodgy online bookings to genuinely consider just… staying home. (eye roll at myself, truly.)
But I didn’t. I grabbed a peak return ticket from Aldgate East for £35 — the “I refuse to stress about rushing back” package — and made my way to King’s Cross. From there, hop on the Great Northern from Platform 9. About an hour’s ride, and honestly? Don’t bother hunting for a window seat. There’s not much to see on the way. I used that hour doing what any unprepared solo traveller does — falling down a rabbit hole of trending reels, TikToks, and eventually asking Claude to help me build a last-minute itinerary. By the time we pulled in, I had a plan.
Now — if you’ve never left London before, Cambridge will hit different in the best way. First surprise? You need to buy a bus ticket on the bus. Yes, inside the actual bus. One door. In and out. Tap in, tap out. It’s giving a very charming “we do things differently here” energy.
First stop: Fitzbillies. A Cambridge institution since the 1920s, and basically inescapable on every “Cambridge must-do” list. Famous for their Chelsea buns. I got one — £4.50 — because the internet told me to, and honestly, the vibe of the place alone is gorgeous.
The bun though? Too sweet for me. Sticky, raisin-heavy, very much a thing. If that’s your kind of treat, you’ll probably love it. I respected it. We just weren’t meant to be.
Next Stop: The Shopping Spree (That Wasn’t)
For the first time in my life, I was surrounded by the most gorgeous things — cute trinkets, organic and skin-friendly makeup, jewellery pieces I genuinely wanted to cry over, incredible vintage clothing shops — and I bought nothing. Absolutely nothing. I don’t know who I’m becoming, but Cambridge did something to me.
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That said, if you’re someone who loves a good wander, the streets alone are worth it. There’s a beautiful library to lose yourself in, independent shops that feel nothing like anything you’d find on Oxford Street, and enough charm to fill an entire afternoon without spending a penny.
But the part I was most excited about — and lowkey dreading — was punting.
I’ll be honest. I was a bit. You know that feeling that’s not quite scared but not quite not scared? That. The idea of sitting in a flat-bottomed boat being steered down a river while trying to look unbothered… I had thoughts.
I went for a shared chauffeured tour — and it was the right call. You’ve got two options on the River Cam: self-hire, where you’re the captain (brave, chaotic, genuinely risky if you’re a first-timer), or a chauffeured tour, where a professional guide does the punting and narrates the whole journey — think King’s College Chapel, the Mathematical Bridge, stories about the colleges you’d never find on Google. On a shared tour you get your own section of the boat, it’s easier on the wallet than a private tour, and honestly, you might even end up swapping recommendations with fellow travellers along the way.
The moment I got in the boat, all the nerves dissolved. The water, the calm, the slow pace of it all — I felt like I’d been dropped into a completely different country, not just a different city. The guide finished the tour and asked if anyone had questions.
I asked if we could go again.
That tells you everything.
And Then, Back to Reality.
The journey back hit differently. Pulling into King’s Cross — crowds, noise, rush, that very specific London chaos that never takes a day off — I genuinely wasn’t ready. One hour in Cambridge and my nervous system had fully reset. London wanted it back immediately.
But as they say — London is something you just can’t run from.
And there we came back.
Until Then
Sayonara
