Field Trip to Homerton

Julia Craggs 2 February 2015

There is sometimes a bit of a Hotel California vibe down here at Homerton, especially if it’s raining, so you haven’t been to lectures in a week, and you’re feeling a bit… trapped. ‘We are all just prisoners here, of our own device’ – it rings a bell.

There’s no point denying it, Homerton has a bad rep. Averaging 25th on the Tompkin’s Table, we’re out in the sticks down south, and hordes of local sixth formers stampede our Sainsbury’s Local every lunchtime – unfortunate if you’ve popped in for your weekly loaf of bread and two dozen pot noodles. Then again, maybe we don’t get as many firsts because we’re too busy lounging around in our orchard, or walking all over our grass (sorry, King’s). We haven’t produced Darwin or Hawking or Coleridge; but when you switch on Broadchurch every Monday, just remember that it was the hallowed halls of Homerton that birthed the scintillating brilliance of Olivia Colman.

There’s plenty of room at Homerton, too. We can have rooms for all three years – and they’re doled out in a fair and liberal manner; not dependant on your captaincy of the rowing team, or how you did in your exams – a thoroughly modern democracy for Cambridge. We’re progressive and new, but still live in Neo-Gothic red brick beauties worthy of any Instagram – not that tourists would know; I haven’t seen a single muggle on the paths of college since the day I got here.

Then, of course, there’s our Bops. Bops where everyone dresses to the theme accordingly, in ubiquitous ‘cardboard and tin foil’ uniform. Bops where – in the most shockingly revelatory statement of this article – we actually dance. We don’t just stand around looking cool/sulky (here’s looking at you, John’s) – we flail our arms and swing our legs and generally embarrass ourselves, because as the biggest, friendliest college at Cambridge, either no one will care, or – if they do – you’ll probably never see them again anyway.

Homerton can sometimes seem a bit like that Eagles song – ‘you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave’ – it’s just a bit too far into town to do it that regularly. But then again, if you’re at Homerton, why would you want to?