Coda: Leaving Cambridge 25 June 1993 Departure from Cambridge was suprisingly uneventful. Following Barb's advice, I decided to leave Thursday evening and stay over here at Gatwick, rather than start the travel day Friday with a three-hour bus ride at 6 a.m. Martin and Gabo managed to get everything into the Skoda for a ride to Drummer Street; after deciding it would have been better to meet me and Barb during their last year rather than the first (now she has grown accustomed to us, and will miss us, Gabo says), and a tearful farewell, the Cambridge Coaches bus pulled away. The countryside seemed especially beautiful: evening sun and piles of varigated cumulus clouds, fields filled with rich colors: bright yellow rape seed, pale blue fax, crimson poppies. The rich light added depth and texture to the lush landscape, dotted with livestock and solid cottages. It felt as if I was having one last look at the best side of the country. I thought about the year just past, of course, riding nearly alone on the big bus through the twilight. I am struck by the fact that few experiences in life have such a precise schedule: class starts on a certain date, ends with the oral exam. At 12:35 pm Thursday my viva was finished and my career as a Cambridge student was over. All that remains is the paperwork and a little ancient chanting and kneeling, in which I will participate only in absentia. I have to admit that my attitude at this point does can't accommodate any bowing before the authority of Cambridge University … I did well in the course, which was important to me. As much as I reject and chafe at the elitism inherent in the Cambridge system, I needed to do well to demonstrate to myself that I didn't reject it because I couldn't hack it. The system of grading a thesis apparently ranges from a barely passing 55 to a seldom achieved 70, the mark qualifying for a famous "Cambridge first" degree that goes to something less than 5 percent. I am told (unofficially, of course) that I got a 69 on my thesis, the mark being upgraded slightly on the strength of a good showing in the viva discussion. A staffer at SPRI told me it was the best thesis he has seen produced at the institute in the five years he has been asssociated with it. I was told earlier that my essays (the other 50 percent of the grade) were the best in the group, so I assume my overall final average will be high. It makes me feel good to know that -- again, for my own purposes. As far as any public acknowledgement goes, this is simply pass/fail, and I will have the M.Phil (Cantab) degree as evidence of passing. Still, in my heart, I am pleased that a boy from Muldoon could walk amongst the dons and come away with a showing to be proud of.