Review: Gonville and Caius May Ball

Click the links for our coverage of Tuesday nights other balls: Newnham, John's and Christ's. 

I love May Balls. I love that inside the door you forget the £140 price tag and are made to feel that people want to give you free and limitless champagne, that you always get the classic hog roast even when the theme involves ‘A taste of the Exotic’ and for one night only you can declare you’re Alphabeat’s biggest fan. The fact that you only knew one song last week is irrelevant.  The same went for Toploader at Caius May Ball last night in an otherwise spectacular display of what May Week is all about: Gingerbread houses, ostrich burgers, prawns, cheese fondue, pate, port and Perrier. 

Across all of the four sections, the ball absolutely delivered. The queues were short and the food and drink truly limitless – I went up a dress size overnight.  

Summer was a picturesque and quintessentially British village fete that gave a visual and culinary orgasm to us all. On top of the standard boat swings you had some vicious croquet, piles of sweets, houses of kangaroo and emu burgers, literally fountains of Pimms, some tasty croque monsieurs and delicate but brutal cocktails, topped off by a soundtrack of classical harmonies. I loved it all. 

The autumnal quad provided soup and crumble to be eaten while chuckling at the Totally Tom quips. Unsatisified with that? Unlikely with Toni and Guy there to re-curl your golden locks.  

Winter had all the atmosphere of a Scandinavian feast; there were gingerbread houses free to be fingered and demolished, port and pate for the conservatives amongst us (cue DJ Tory Boy). Chips could be thrown in the Gentleman’s Club and as if that wasn’t enough, the tattoo lovers amongst us could tat ourselves up whilst sipping on the delightful rum cocktails and dipping our fingers and cucumbers in some sweet cheese. 

Last but not least, spring was truly a gay occasion that made me feel a hippy running around fields high as I was in Wakestock ’84; flower weaving, Shisha and a truly ghastly smelling but oh-so-delicious fish platter. Perhaps the best touch was the beautiful and morish cake replica of the college. I only wish they would make one of New Hall. 

We danced in the moonlight to Toploader and listened to Hot Chip over and over.  We flashed flesh to Grandmaster Flash in approval. And when it all ended we cried, shamelessly, and longed for a time machine to rewind back what was potentially the best nine hours of my life. Eat your heart out Trinity.

 Flower weaving was an inspired idea…

Food and Drink:

Wow Factor:

Value for Money:

Star attraction: Kangaroos. 

Biggest turn off: Who even are Toploader?