First time in Cambridgeshire. First proper time anyway. There’s a free car park in the middle of the city and on a Thursday night the people of town trek back and forth between their mk. II Skoda Fabia Combis and their wellness classes. There are a surprisingly number of wellness studios in Ely, and a surprising number of pubs also.

We walk up to the cathedral; a mixed group of parents and older folks dressed nicely but not formally mill on the cathedral green. Groups of lads in threes and fours jaunt by in full tuxedos. They’re students at one of the oldest schools in the world, apparently. A mother and her daughter dodge out of their way, and the mother says in an upperclass accent, “Keep your wits about or these men in black will get you.”

We get dinner at a Greene King pub. The burgers have that “flame broiled” smoky flavour. Ghyll begs for a morsel. Then we go across the street and nurse a slow one each at The Drayman’s Son. Sam reads Trivial Pursuit cards while I take pictures of the walls.

After dinner we wander up to have a look at the medieval motte & bailey but find that it is now a big wide open park and that the motte at the top has been fenced off after the council ran out of money to do more archaeology back in the early 2000s. A group of young people bounce a volleyball together below.

The road between Ely and our campsite is wonky with subsidence from the drained fens and our headlights carom all over the road with the wobbles and waves.