The summer school diaries: this week – conquerors and creepy crawlies

SUNDAY
Afternoon. The M11 merged onto Cambridge and the car followed. I arrived, with my friend, Kirsty, her parents, and butterflies in my stomach. After parking at Fitzwilliam College, we strolled around the town, taking in the sights and stopping for a spot of lunch.

In our explorations, I noticed a pub called "Baron of Beef" which caused me endless amusement. In contemporary West London slang usage, "beef" refers to conflict, violence or an altercation. Consequently, this establishment conjured up an image of a regal personage, handing out beatings, not brisket.

Dinner was pleasant. I found myself reunited with old acquaintances and introduced to new ones. Sleep was uneasy - I woke up at regular intervals - due to the weather. My room had been transformed into an oven, and I resolved to open a window.

MONDAY
Upon waking, I was startled by a dead moth above the radiator. It was slightly shrivelled, and a ghastly shade of grey. This moth occupied several minutes of my thought-space each night, much like yellow wallpaper. One of my hypotheses was that the moth was attracted to my raw animal magnetism. I circulated this idea to anyone who would listen.

This was an exciting morning as there were Arts lectures to look forward to. "Conquerors & Sex in Medieval England" allowed me to use the skills I had developed in history lessons, whilst exploring gender and past treatment of women. "The Geography of Crime" session was equally informative, and introduced me to several crime-mapping resources that I have passed onto my friends.

The formal dinner was held on Monday night. In all honesty, I was anxious. I’m not accustomed to formal etiquette, and the menu made me nervous with its promise of apple-filled chicken with pecan cream sauce. I am happy to say that I feared because I was ignorant. The meal - with its side dish of horror film discussion - was delicious.

Dinner finished, my hunger diminished, I returned to my room. I reclined. Buzzing. There was a hoverfly in my room. What followed next resembled a slow motion explosion in a linear action movie. I enlisted the emotional support of my next-door neighbour, Kavita. I used the bright desk lamp to lure the hoverfly to the window. A veritable MacGyver.

The hoverfly floated out into the darkness. Fear was replaced by embarrassment. I had suddenly become conscious that my bed looked as if it had vomited fabric onto the room. It seems I had neglected to tidy up. Panic over, I slept like a hibernating hedgehog, my nerves steadied by the absence of winged intruders.

TUESDAY
This was an eventful day. Lord Wilson of Dinton's talk on the "Nature of Government" stood out in the schedule. His anecdotes told much about the traditions of British politics and the civil service.

Afterwards, we went on a ghost hunt. Each group devised a skit on a ghost persona. Our team came in second place. I attribute our success to our creative use of costume. We had "persuaded" our undergraduate leader to wear a dress and a wig. Anything for the sake of art.

The evening visit to the Museum of Zoology was both educational and entertaining. Here we bonded as a group, marvelling at the skeletons and fossils of animals. We exchanged animal facts, curiosities, and falsities. We were fine tellers of tall fish tales.

All in all, this was an awesome expedition. Although repulsive, my favourite exhibit was that of hatching snake eggs. Their heads and bodies protruded from flimsy calcium cases, and their journey into life, immortalised, was strangely beautiful.

WEDNESDAY
The last day brought sessions on applying to university. This activity definitely dispelled myths I held about Cambridge, and allayed some of my fears. I had made the admission process to be a horse that could not be broken. The process is more complicated than at other universities, but this is so that applicants are weighed up fairly, and explored fully. I do still hold some nervous energy about applying to university - after all, it is something that will shape my future and who I become - but I am more optimistic, and determined to give it my best shot.

Unfortunately, the summer school had come to a close after lunch. All that faced me now was departure: departure from my new friends, departure from the university, and departure from my companion, the moth. It was a bittersweet moment - I felt low leaving Cambridge. On the other hand, I was enthused. I would now return to school and carry on with my academic pursuits. This is all in preparation for the coming year.

I want to take advantage of all the educational opportunities that come my way, so that I may, one day, break my calcium shell and move out into the world.

We’d like to thank all those who submitted wonderful diaries based on the Fitzwilliam and Emmanuel Colleges Summer School. Watch this space next Friday for the winning account of taking part in the two Sutton Trust Summer Schools.