劍橋歲月
Cambridge Revisited: A City of Learning and Memory
重返劍橋：學問與記憶之城
From London（倫敦）, I would leave the great city through King’s Cross Station（國王十字車站） and take the one-hour train to Cambridge Station. As the crowded streets gradually gave way to open fields and quiet villages, I always felt that I was travelling not only to another city, but into another rhythm of life—slower, deeper, and filled with the fragrance of books and history.
Cambridge became part of my life across four different years: 1987, 2008, 2009, and 2010. I attended courses at Robinson College（羅賓遜學院） and Clare College（克萊爾學院）. The first journey belonged to my younger days; the later visits were returns to a place that had never entirely left my heart. Each time I came back, the city looked almost unchanged, but I had changed with the passing years.
Cambridge is not merely a university. It is a world composed of old stone walls, green courtyards, ringing bells, silent libraries, and young minds walking beneath ancient trees.
At Trinity College（三一學院）, I often thought of the famous apple tree（牛頓蘋果樹） associated with Isaac Newton（牛頓） and the discovery of gravity. Whether one sees the original tree or one of its descendants matters less than the idea it represents: that an ordinary falling apple could awaken an extraordinary understanding of the universe.
I returned many times to Queens’ College（皇后學院）, where the half-timbered buildings seemed to retain the atmosphere of medieval Cambridge. Nearby stood the celebrated Mathematical Bridge（數學橋）, graceful and precise, joining two riverbanks as naturally as mathematics joins imagination with reason.
Christ’s College（基督學院） recalled Charles Darwin（達爾文） and his revolutionary thoughts on life and evolution. King’s College（國王學院）, with its magnificent chapel rising above the city, expressed another kind of greatness—faith transformed into architecture, music, light, and stone.
Downing College（唐寧學院） appeared more spacious and classical, while St John’s College（聖約翰學院） led toward the Bridge of Sighs（嘆息橋）, whose covered windows crossed the River Cam like a passage suspended between reality and dreams.
Among Cambridge’s three celebrated bridges—the Bridge of Sighs（嘆息橋）, the Mathematical Bridge（數學橋）, and Clare Bridge（克萊爾橋）—each possessed a character of its own. The Bridge of Sighs was romantic and mysterious; the Mathematical Bridge was elegant and rational; Clare Bridge, reflected quietly in the water, seemed the most gentle and poetic.
The River Cam（康河） was the soft pulse of the city. To go punting in Cambridge（搭撐篙船遊康河） was to see the university from another angle. The punt moved slowly beneath the bridges, past lawns, gardens, and college walls. The pole entered the water, the boat glided forward, and the ancient buildings appeared and disappeared between the branches.
For a moment, time itself seemed to float upon the river.
I also visited Peterhouse College（彼得學院）, the oldest college at Cambridge, and Great St Mary’s Church（大聖瑪麗教堂）, standing in the historic heart of the university town. Its tower watched over the market square, the colleges, and generations of students who had passed beneath it.
The Catholic Church of Our Lady and the English Martyrs（聖母與英格蘭殉道者天主教堂） offered a different atmosphere. Its tall Gothic Revival tower rose prominently above the streets, bringing solemnity and spiritual calm to the southern entrance of Cambridge.
Cambridge also opened many windows onto the wider world. At the Fitzwilliam Museum（菲茨威廉博物館）, I wandered among European paintings, sculptures, manuscripts, and ancient treasures. The Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology（考古與人類學博物館） revealed distant civilizations and diverse human cultures, while the Polar Museum（極地博物館） told stories of explorers who ventured into the frozen ends of the earth.
The museums of Cambridge—devoted to archaeology, anthropology, technology, and science（劍橋考古、人類學、科技與科學博物館）—reminded me that knowledge is not confined to classrooms. It is preserved in objects, instruments, maps, fossils, artworks, and the courageous journeys of those who dared to question the unknown.
At the Cambridge University Botanic Garden（劍橋大學植物園）, the scholarly city softened into leaves, flowers, ponds, and glasshouses. Plants gathered from many climates grew together in peaceful order. After hours among books, museums, and historic buildings, walking there felt like entering a living library written by nature.
Yet Cambridge was never only solemn or academic. At the Cambridge Folk Festival（劍橋民俗音樂節）, music filled the air with warmth and freedom. People gathered not to study the past, but to sing, dance, and celebrate the present.
At The Eagle（老鷹酒吧）, history took on a more human and intimate form. Students, teachers, soldiers, scientists, and travellers had all passed through its rooms. It was here that Francis Crick and James Watson famously announced their discovery of the structure of DNA（DNA結構）. Sitting inside, one could feel how great ideas sometimes emerged not only in laboratories, but also through conversation, friendship, and excitement shared over a drink.
Beyond Cambridge, I visited Ely（伊利小鎮）, a quiet cathedral town rising from the flat landscape of the Fens（沼澤低地）. Ely Cathedral（伊利大教堂）, once called the “Ship of the Fens”（沼澤之船）, dominated the countryside with its great towers. Inside, the extraordinary octagonal lantern seemed to draw light down from heaven.
I also travelled to the National Horse Racing Museum（國家賽馬博物館） in Newmarket（紐馬克特）, where Britain’s long tradition of horse racing was preserved through paintings, trophies, riding equipment, and the stories of famous horses and jockeys. It added another dimension to my understanding of the Cambridge region—a landscape shaped not only by universities, but also by farms, horses, country traditions, and open skies.
My four periods of study and return—1987, 2008, 2009, and 2010—became four chapters of one continuing journey. In 1987, Cambridge appeared before me as a distant and venerable world. When I returned many years later, its bridges, colleges, museums, churches, and gardens awakened memories that had quietly remained within me.
Every return was both a reunion and a discovery.
The train would eventually carry me back from Cambridge Station（劍橋車站） to King’s Cross（國王十字車站） in London（倫敦）. Yet some part of me always remained behind: beneath the willow trees beside the River Cam, inside the courtyards of Clare and Robinson, under the vaulted ceiling of King’s College Chapel, and upon a slowly moving punt passing beneath the three old bridges.
Cambridge taught me that learning is not limited to a course, a college, or a particular season of life. It continues whenever we remain curious, whenever we cross another bridge, and whenever we return to an old place with new eyes.
The years had carried me far away, but whenever I remembered Cambridge, I could still hear the chapel bells drifting over the rooftops and see the River Cam flowing quietly beneath the bridges—as if the city had been waiting there all along.
Queens' College and the Mathematical Bridge
King's College and King's College Chapel國王學院
英皇學院橋King's College Bridge
King's College and King's College Chapel國王學院和國王學院禮拜堂
Clare College Bridge--The oldest of Cambridge's current bridges, this bridge in classical style was built in 1639–40 by Thomas Grumbold (d.1659)It is one of two bridges left standing by the Parliamentarian forces in the Civil War
