Perspiring dreams

You go to the city of the dreaming spires, and you have to take a picture of one, don't you? Personally, I prefer Cambridge's nickname - perspiring dreams. I was feeling pretty much like this after I dragged myself out of bed at 7am, having only got back to my room at 1.30am, and needed to pack after that. Finally, on the last night I was persuaded to try out the bar of the Randolph.... Although not much further alcohol was consumed (the prices are prohibitive of that), the sheer lack of sleep and the intensity of the week was gradually catching up on me. It certainly seemed like torture to listen to another morning of presentations on Saturday.

Back blip, of course. Too tired to blip on Friday and Saturday.