Catherine's 40th

Saturday 23 July was the day of daughter Catherine's 40th birthday. We celebrated it in style, starting with lunch at Bistro Bruno Loubet at the Zetter Hotel on Clerkenwell Road. Who says the English don't do food? The food here was extraordinarily good, even as good or maybe better than the best one finds in New Zealand (high praise indeed). The evening was spent at Café du Marche, also in Clerkenwell, the part of London where Catherine lives. She had booked the entire top floor, for her 24 guests, who were treated to Champagne and canapes followed by an extraordinary three course meal. The Portuguese Maitre de claimed that the steak was the best in London, and I have to say, having chosen that option, I have no reason to doubt him.

Catherine suggested "urban glamour" as suitable attire. Miang joined Catherine for hair styling in the afternoon and you may judge here whether the result was worth the salon's efforts. I have to say that Catherine looked rather chic in her long dress (the massive gold bracelet was our gift). Chris and I (he with the green tie and me the Kia Kaha) opted for the conservative, namely the smart suit. But I have to confess, all attending looked pretty good.

I could not resist the chance to speak, the opportunity to tell stories of Catherine's beginnings to her astonished London friends and colleagues was not to be wasted. But it was also a chance to speak a little more seriously of what both Catherine and Chris, and in his case his lovely wife Hiva and their Children, James and Thomas, mean to my life and to Miang's.

Most of us left by about 12-30 am, but a hardy few, including Catherine, partied on for a while. Next morning it was Catherine's job to open all the wonderful presents brought by friends the night before.

It was a brilliant occasion. Everyone present had a wonderful time. Miang and I felt so fortunate to be able to take part.

On Sunday we headed back to Cambridge, with another visit to the grandchildren and then a meal at Trinity High Table in the evening. I have still not quite mastered the rituals, when to stand, in which direction to file out. Miang and I sat with Lord Rees, the Master, a charming man, another brilliant physicist in the history of brilliant Trinity physicists.
I do like sitting with Rutherford's portrait overlooking the table, knowing that he must have been seated many times, in the same spot at dinner. And for that matter, so of course had Isaac Newton, James Clerk Maxwell, John Joseph Thompson, Byron, Tennyson, Wittgenstein and Huxley. Such is Trinity College.