May Ball Madness and Moostachios

St John's College, lit up

When Cambridge does an end-of-the-year, you-are-done-with-exams, look-fun type of party, it does it well. Especially at John’s.

Though the tickets may cost you two small children and one leg, and though hunting for a dress may turn you into a terrifying closet searcher, May Balls are amazing.

My lovely dates

Here are some of the things I want to remember:

• Walking in after waiting outside for an hour in heels on sandy garden path, and being handed champagne and strawberries with cream. Bumper cars glint red and orange in the distance. We pause for photos and a toast: “To a beautiful night!” Says Praj, which everyone repeats.
• And then attacking each other like little children with bumper cars.

Bump that car

• The excitement of realizing how many unlimited drinks and different types of food there were. We get cotton candy and popcorn. Alex, claiming man duty, finds himself a hog roast sandwich. We haven’t even moved inside the college yet and already there is too much to see.

• Giving up within twenty minutes and taking off my high heels. The jacket comes out too. Then the blanket.

Candy floss? Cotton candy? Tasty

• Eating our way through the first courts, until we’re stopped with whispered rumors of fireworks. We make our way outside and stand among hundreds of students in ball gowns and crisp suits.
• Music fills the air. “I heard they did this, set it to song,” I say but no one can hear me. Fireworks explode upwards and outwards and I stop talking. (These fireworks are from 2009, but it’s close.)

• Making our way back into college and seeing the Oxygen Bar, the multiple stages (five in all, I think), the food and drinks… Especially the food and drinks: cupcakes and chocolate, crepes, curry, martinis, cocktails, hot tea and coffee, burgers, fries, chips, fish, crackers, cheese, meats, bread, soup, everything. It was more than we could ever eat, more than we could even think to sample.

Drinks in punts

• Stopping to listen to Ellie Goulding, the headlining act. I stand next to Ashley as the boys go sit down. We sing along but not very strongly, since it’s midnight and we’ve had a bit of shisha.

• We find and lose each other throughout the night. New friends join: Zach, Kristin, Lee. Others leave. We can’t move across carpet and grass quickly enough to see everything and everyone.
• So we stop trying. We go into the Great Hall for Ceilidh Dancing, a traditional Irish form of dance similar to four square. An announcer stands at the front and shouts out instructions.

• “Hold out your arms!” A drunk man tells me. I do and he puts a broken deer/moose/animal head in them, turns around, and sprints off. I am left with deer/moose, which we name Moosey and keep for half the night. It’s 4 a.m.

Moosey. Not quite camera ready.

• By 5 a.m., we have found mustaches in Ashley’s bag. As in, she brought them deliberately. So we put them on and wear ball gowns and black ties and moostachios. It’s just terribly funny with all of our exhaustion.

• They start bringing out breakfast: rolls, pastries, coffee, tea. “I can’t eat anymore,” I moan as I eat two more veggie breakfast patties.
• We make it to the Survivors Photo, a picture at the back of John’s. It’s 6:30 a.m. and the sun has been shining for hours. I stand next to friends, arms draped around each other, swaying in cold and exhaustion.

• “NAKKEEED MAN!!!” Someone is shouting. I look over and there is, indeed, a naked man. Entirely naked. Standing on a podium with his arms and man-bits out. “Naked maaaan!” He remains there for three minutes.

• We take pictures and then stumble forward together. Throngs of students wander along the streets towards home in the early morning. I grab a couple more pieces of fruit for the road. “Can’t eat anymore,” I say, but of course it’s a lie.

• “I can’t imagine a better group to have spent the night with,” says Praj at one point. “Look at you, getting all sentimental,” quips Alex, and we laugh because it’s all a bit true. It was a beautiful night. A surreal night.

(Thank you Don.)