I attended an Old Blues Day a few years ago.
I wanted to re-connect with the feeling of CH.
It began with quite a lot of giggling in the car park, where two charming and confident girls spoke to me - I think they were guiding the Oldies into suitable spots. "But I was at
Hertford" I said, as I obviously didn't know where I was heading. The girls looked at me, kindly. "What was it like...
there?" one asked. "It was - different" I said. "A bit more grim than you could probably imagine. Enclosed. A sort of aura of a female Gormenghast at times. If you conformed, you did well." "And you didn't conform?" asked the other. "Not
really" I said, cautiously. The girls began giggling. How nice they were!
I could see they were thinking "Poor old thing!"
"And you look lovely in the uniform!" I called after them. They waved.
I must have walked a very long way that day. The Chapel, the Library, that hall-like place on "The Avenue" (was it?) where I met "Girlhood" (undefaced) again, and found the House Mons Boards. There, too, were the boards with the names of the great and good girls who had won prizes. Familiar names, some of them! I had a go at shooting in the CCF Hut. I went around the Museum, guided by a clever and delightful boy called Tristan, and looked at our Hertford relics behind glass.
However, I wasn't re-connecting with a CH feeling - until lunchtime. I was too broke to afford the Dining Hall lunch, but I'd got an apple in my bag, and went for a wander whilst there were no other Old Blues around - and hardly any pupils either. The place seemed deserted. The flower beds needed weeding, I thought, sternly. I'd read on the Forum that Mr John Knight had scaled The Water Tower, so I thought I'd try to find it! I could see the impressive structure, but couldn't actually find its
base in order best to appreciate the achievement of his climb.
I found myself at the back of the Kitchens. I could smell the institutional whiff of dirty plates and cutlery, hear the bustle and clatter of dishwashing, see various bins of discarded food, and hear the clang as metal serving dishes hit the bottom of big stainless steel sinks. And suddenly in my memory, I was walking by the back of one of our Houses hearing the noise and smell of washing up, remembering the cutlery baskets flung out outside the back door (wet after rinsing, but still encrusted with food particles) and the particular olfactory experience of plates dripping from a wooden draining rack.
That's how I reconnected.
Edit Alert! Edit Alert! I realise that this isn't about Speech Day 2011 at all... I was just tapping madly on the keyboard and submitting before later thinking that actually it belongs with Old Blues Day stuff! So Ms Moderator, please move it to a more accurate thread if necessary!
"Baldrick, you wouldn't recognise a cunning plan if it painted itself purple, and danced naked on top of a harpsichord singing "Cunning plans are here again.""