We spent a couple of days in Cambridge in 2015 for a gig at the Rathmore Club on Cherry Hinton Lane. Göran, Niklas and I were to meet with some people at the Cambridge University Botanic Gardens, not far from the Rathmore. The small group of specially invited people, from Germany, Italy, Holland, the USA and other parts of the UK, were all in Cambridge for the gig and had rented a coach for a tour of the town. So after breakfast we walked the kilometer or so to the Botanic Gardens, taking in the sights along the way, possibly including a Waitrose supermarket and definitely the iconic Flying Pig pub. We were a bit late, but not too much.
We approached the booth at the garden where a young woman sat selling tickets and Göran pulled out his credit card and asked nicely for three.
The woman enquired, “Are you with the group that’s just gone in?” to which Göran and I answered joyfully in unison, “Yes, that’s right”.
“Well, in that case I can’t let you in”, she replied.
“What? Why not?”, we asked, more than a little shocked.
“Because groups of more than ten people must be registered at least a week in advance“, she snapped.
“But there are only three of us!” we explained.
“You just told me you were part of that large group” said the gatekeeper.
“No, no! We have absolutely nothing to do with them”, Göran insisted. “Look, we’re just three ordinary tourists on holiday who want to see the garden!”
“But you’ve already told me, so now I know you’re part of that group.”
“No, we’re really not!”
“Yes, you are!”
“No, we’re not!”
We argued back and forth with her for a few minutes, but it was a waste of time and in the end we gave it up. If she hadn’t asked us if we were part of a group, we wouldn’t have said anything, as it wasn’t relevant and in fact we were anyway not with them, just meeting them. We were planning on simply walking through the gardens, looking at the trees, flowers and a park bench or two and if we met up with the group, fine. If not, also fine. Instead we were forced to silly-walk away from the booth talking about Kafka and Monty Python. The whole thing was completely bizarre.
We walked around the outside of the garden and met the group at the other end as they were loading themselves onto the coach, joining them for the tour of Cambridge. Next stop: Grantchester Meadows. The group of thirteen had also been refused entry earlier because of the “more than ten” rule and had become frustrated and angry, as of course none of them were aware of the rule. Not even the organizer of the tour, born in and still living in Cambridge, knew of it. Finally they had paid for ten tickets and the remaining three had walked in without paying anything at all. That must have stung the irrascible gatekeeper, who probably spent the rest of the day asking visitors if they were part of a group and refusing them entry if they were. Thank you, Cambridge University Botanic Garden. It’s great to feel welcome!