22nd March 2025
I received an invitation to an open day at the Chemistry Laboratory of Cambridge University. The event commenced with a demonstration led by Professor Peter Wothers. While his demonstrations are typically known for their explosive nature, featuring loud bangs from igniting gases, this particular session adopted a more relaxed approach. It showcased naturally occurring elements and how these everyday substances and compounds can be transformed into explosives.
The demonstrations were fascinating. For instance, we learned that elemental iron is not found naturally on the Earth’s surface, except in some meteorites, due to its high reactivity in our oxygen-rich atmosphere. Professor Wothers then poured iron filings, prepared under an inert gas, onto the floor. They immediately ignited, emitting red and white sparks as they burned.
We also witnessed the manufacture of gunpowder from naturally occurring elements and compounds and observed nitrogen triiodide detonating upon the slightest touch. (This is an explosive I made while I was a Cambridge, and distributed over the floor of the late night bar, as well as in keyholes of student rooms.) The demonstration concluded with an explosion of nitroglycerine, all potentially derived from naturally occurring compounds and elements.
Following the demonstration, we had lunch in a space overlooking the laboratory entrance. Several labs were hosting experiments specifically designed to pique children’s interest in chemistry. These rooms were exceptionally noisy, prompting our swift departure.
Afterwards, R visited Bodies in the Bookshop and left with several books. The very obliging shop owner is now collecting several crime novels set in Cambridge for her. He has contacted her on a few occasions since, and we plan to return to Cambridge in June to collect the books.
Our visit concluded with coffee at Espresso Lane, a somewhat quirky, tiny coffee shop located next door. Interestingly, the former residence of the Cambridge executioner is situated on the same street.
