Much to my sorrow, I am part of that strange species of student who can never work in libraries. In fact, I tend to limit all academic activities to my room. And, before you ask, no, I am not a Trinmo or a Compsci or any other subterranean creature. It may come as a surprise that I am an English student, for despite my degree’s rather ‘social’ reputation, I’ve always struggled to work productively in a public space. Hearing my friends praise the Haddon and scrolling through @biblio_bridge only reminds me that such study settings are out of reach. Instead, I’m surrounded by moths and rotting furniture.

“I can offer some general advice: café chains will almost certainly fail to deliver”

But between my decomposing room and the arched walls of the Cambridge libraries (a metaphor; it has come to my attention that a surprising number of our libraries are round) lies the ideal compromise of a café: a public study space made alluring by the promise of a sweet treat and a non-instant caffeinated beverage, for which I’m very susceptible. So, this summer, I visited a range of cafés to create a criterion for the perfect one (and maybe to drink a lot of coffee).

Noise Levels

Unfortunately, most cafés tend to be quite noisy. If social gatherings and Teams meetings aren’t loud enough, there will undoubtedly be an eclectic playlist to damage your eardrums. On my quest, I’ve encountered everything from outdated Pop to techno (which, startlingly, was blasting from my own college bar). As someone who had to layer two pairs of noise-cancelling headphones during my time living on Trinity Street to hear my own thoughts, it won’t come as a surprise that minimal noise levels are a must. If you’re looking for some direction, Gail’s and the Waterstones café are both mercifully free of musical ambience.

“The café environment allows you to scrutinise the lives of others the old-fashioned way”

Vibes

I’m aware that it is difficult to quantify vibes, and that any judgement is purely subjective speculation. But I can offer some general advice: café chains will almost certainly fail to deliver. Cambridge corporate chains, such as Fitzbillies and even Caffè Nero, tend to become tourist attractions in themselves. But not all independent cafés can curate perfection: some try too hard in their attempts to create a unique environment, and instead of having too little soul, there is too much. Eclectic combinations of neon signs, painted tables, prints, and fake plants are only reminiscent of Blake Lively’s maximalist wardrobe on her recent press tour (in the worst possible way). This is not the dark academia setting we are seeking. As always, simplicity is key.

Coffee and Sweet Treats

An obvious criterion, I know, but for a reason. Right now, it is not in my interest to tackle what makes a good sweet treat or coffee. Instead, let’s get down to more practical matters: if I’m ordering a pastry, will it come with a knife and fork or will my hands and laptop get greasy? What is the range of sweet treats on offer; am I limited to pastries or can I get a cookie, a brownie, or perhaps a tart if I’m feeling particularly adventurous? Is the display aesthetically pleasing, and by extension creates a homely environment, or does rigid organisation reek of corporate?

People-watching

People-watching, in my opinion, is a highly underrated activity. Now, whilst some may say that it is likely to distract you from your work, I say that people-watching provides food for thought (and thought is generally very good for studying). Cafés, unlike libraries, expose you to people outside of the student population; instead of picking up your phone for bite-sized servings of brainrot, the café environment allows you to scrutinise the lives of others the old-fashioned way. Bonus: when in Cambridge, there’s always the chance to overhear local gossip — who needs Camfess?! Of course, the layout of some cafés is better optimised for people-watching than others. Ultimately, it is the cafés that offer a tall table overlooking the street that score highest, enabling you to judge the fashion of strangers from the ivory tower of your bar stool whilst you temporarily divert your mind from your next deadline.

Conclusion

So, was my quest successful? Did I find a café that met all the criteria, and thereby the perfect café to study in? Unfortunately, I did not. As of now, I am still seated comfortably (ish) on my rotting furniture. But, in visiting lots of study spots, I did realise that a change of environment can be refreshing: it reminded me that a real world exists beyond the abstract and aloof ideals of academia. And, on a more practical note, I learned that the price of coffee in London is exorbitantly high. Back to the instant kind, I guess.