Nottingham

A couple of weeks ago, Milly asked me if I'd like to go with her to an open day at Nottingham Trent University. It is a feature of fatherhood - or at least my fatherhood - to be disproportionately moved when one of your teenage daughters proactively expresses a desire to spend some time in your company, but, when I looked at my calendar, I found I had a meeting today, one that was not only unmovable but one that I was rather excited about.

But then, yesterday, at the eleventh hour, the meeting was cancelled. I was very disappointed but realised that I would, after all, be able to go to Nottingham with Milly. Thus, we set off at eight o'clock and began what would turn out to be a twelve hour round trip. Not that I'm complaining; we had a good time, chatting in the car, stopping for coffee occasionally, and, of course, spending a couple of hours in Nottingham being shown around NTU and hearing about the course.

It was while we were making our way from the car to the university building where we were supposed to be meeting that I saw this odd cemetery. It was like a large park, right in the middle of Nottingham, with graves scattered about. Sometimes they were in clusters, others were set on their own. Unlike every other graveyard I've seen, there was no organisation; no rows, no pathways, no structure at all. I thought that, actually, it would be quite a nice place to mooch around. (Maybe I'll get the chance if Milly ends up at NTU.)