Read my Doncaster travelogue here.

My eighth city is the East Cambridgeshire city of Ely, seventy miles north of London.

The etymology of Ely is uncertain. Some argues it refers to the intensity of eels that were once caught here whereas others argue it is derived from ‘elysium,’ or it refers to an old Celtic name meaning willow trees or salt water.

My journey to Ely started at 10.45 where I needed to catch the Great Northern train from King’s Cross St Pancras. Other than leaving a few minutes late, the journey began without a hitch.

I arrived in Ely just after midday. It was fifteen minutes later than intended, but no harm done. It was a mild day, and the sun was shining.

From the station, I immediately spotted the cathedral and headed there first. But I liked Ely from the off. It was quiet, but not a ghost-town. And, unlike some cities, the station wasn’t situated miles away from the city centre.

En route to the cathedral, I stumbled upon the very pretty jubilee gardens, which led down to the great Ouse River. The riverside itself was gorgeous with an array of swans and geese, as well as a big marina. On a warm summer’s day, it would be lovely to picnic here, but, alas, I had chosen to come here in December, so it was onto the cathedral.

I arrived at the cathedral through the backway meaning I had a chance to experience their lovely grounds. Neatly trimmed fields dominated my view. Ely Cathedral was equally impressive. perhaps second to only Canterbury in size and splendour. But at least it was cheaper to enter.

Admittedly, I was put off by the £10 entry fee, but when in Ely…the cathedral was just as magnificent on the inside with some gorgeous stained-glass and fascinating history. The cathedral has existed since the seventh-century AD when Lady Ethmerelda sheltered there after escaping two political marriages.

St Mary’s Chapel – the largest chapel attached to a cathedral in the UK – had a little workshop set up where children could make candles and do calligraphy. Nobody was around so naturally I made a candle of my own.

It was coming up to half one and I was getting hungry, so it was time for lunch. I went to the first place I saw – a greasy spoon called Street Eats where I had bacon, egg and chips, and an apple juice, all for under £10. If you’re expecting me to become a food critique, you’ll be disappointed. It’s bacon, egg and chips. Nothing fancy or complicated, but it filled a hole.

The high street offered a number of other cute cafes and tea-houses, so in respect maybe I could have looked more extensively and not had something so basic. But I have never claimed to be any kind of foodie.

The high street also had what I thought was a 2nd-hand bookshop, so I went in there to buy more books to cross off on my top fifty books to read before you die list, but I was disappointed to see all the books were full-price. Not second-hand at all! I was also stunned to see this spelling error on the spine of a Jane Austen book. I didn’t look too closely, but I can’t imagine that this was on purpose.

As well as cafes, the high street also offered up a wide range of charity shops including Oxfam, BHF, Cancer Research UK and Scope. I made sure to raid them for any films that would be on my list of top 1000 films of all time. Currently I am 512 films deep and I bought five new films: Steel Magnolias, The Italian Job, a Fistful of Dollars, Being John Malkovich, and Invictus. But I was disappointed to see the first two weren’t actually on the list. I probably should have checked first, but shoulda, coulda, woulda. I’m sure they’ll be entertaining watches.

Ely also offered a delightful little market which had vendors selling jewellery, Polish food, artwork and cheese. I love cheese, so I made a note to definitely return here.

It was nearing two at this time, so I ventured to Ely Museum. As you may have gathered, I do little to no research with these trips. Instead, I follow my nose, so I enjoy going to museums to learn more about these cities.

Ely museum costs £5.50. As a Londoner, this was a surprise, as I’m so sued to our museums being free. The museum wasn’t particularly big, but it was still interesting reading about Ely’s history.

Starting life as a little settlement in the marshes, it was occupied by the Anglo-Saxons, Romans and Vikings. Originally, a little farming community, it grew into a massive bustling market that officially became a city in 1974. A city that also provides half of all the sugar cane we eat. I also discussed the origins of the phrase ‘mind your Ps and Qs,’ or mind your manners: in the riverside pubs, many drinker recorded their tabs in pints and quarts, which over time became known as Ps and Qs. But my favourite part of the museum was the exhibit on children evacuated to the city because of World War Two. We learned all about these children and what happened to them after the war.

At three, I had seen enough of the city centre, so I ventured to Ely Country park, but first I had to get my big block of soft cheese. I am very excited to eat this. I also bought a nicely-spiced sausage roll. As previously established, I am no foodie, so I don’t know what the spices were, but it was good.

I was also a little naughty and bought a bag of triple-chocolate fudge. Having bought fudge in Canterbury, Chester & Doncaster, this is becoming a little tradition of mine. While the Ely fudge was rich, indulgent and tasty, it doesn’t compare to the best fudge I ever had and that was from London’s Greenwich market. If you’re ever there, I can’t recommend it enough.

Onto the country park, which was more reclaimed marshland. The park was vast and I surely only walked around a small part. Due to the time of the year, it was very quiet meaning there were very few children to bother me, as I had some fun on the playground. I zipped on the zip-line and tried and failed to slide down the slide.

From here, I wandered down to the Great River Ouse. I followed it through a couple of water-meadows, before I was forced to turn away and walk back through his muddy woodland. Again this was nearly empty. I have been watching this Youtube channel called Vagrant Holiday where this American guy travels around Europe without paying for accommodation. he does this by sleeping rough in bushes, woods and forests like the one I was walking through. Although maybe not in England as wild-camping is illegal here. But, give him a watch. His videos are great.

Again, I probably came here at the wrong time of year. I think at the height of summer, this would have been a very pretty walk, but on a cold and muddy December day, it wasn’t particularly nice.

It was nearing four by this time. With the sun going down, and tiredness setting in, I wondered if it was time to be heading home. Thankfully, I had an off-peak day return meaning I could take any train home rather than the 18.18 one I was originally aiming for. Firstly, I did some shopping in the Tesco by the station where I was able to buy some stuff for dinner, not to mention some stuff I wanted, but didn’t really need.

And then I caught the 16.48 train home which got me back to King’s Cross at 18.05. I am very glad that I took an earlier train home. I’m getting way too old to be getting back home at 11pm. I am also grateful that unlike with Doncaster, all the trains worked how they were supposed to. Considering I had voluntarily chosen to travel on a day with multiple train strikes, I was fortunate.

Overall, I really enjoyed Ely. Such a pretty city with friendly people and an abundance of charity shops and cute tea-houses. Dare I say, it’s a close-second to Canterbury. Just next time I visit Ely, it has to be in the summer. Exeter. You’re next!