Second Fig

At the end of the day, it's hard to write about life here because it lacks the drama of movement. The movements are, on the grand scale of things, inconsequential. I walk 10 minutes to school in the morning, up and down three flights of stairs to get to various classes -- I may even spend some time waiting in lines if I have to buy groceries or stamps. And yet somehow, this feels more eventful than a week of flights and train tickets and waiting on platforms and catching buses. It's a different kind of eventful -- the kind that doesn't translate well to the digital page -- but all the same, I feel compelled to try and pass some of it on.

Fig. 1 -- Groceries. I haven't been able to use that term since...well, basically since I started traveling. It's just one of the many delights of being stationary for more than a week. Doubly delightful because it makes dining in style dirt cheap. While a decent dinner would cost around €11 in a restaurant here, I can probably find something in the market for €2 which, suitably accompanied by some vegetables and delicious beverage, is just as nice. This is also excellent training for later life, given my chosen career path.

Apart from economy, it's just nice to have a cupboard and a fridge and a saucepan to call my own. Apartment life, in general, suits me just fine after a long line of sofas and mattresses on floors and siblings' bedrooms. My flatmates, Paula, Julio, Angela, and Ann (Spanish, Spanish, Spanish, and German), are all studying various subjects at the University -- chemical engineering, communication, psychology, medicine, etc. There's a well-rounded flock of origami cranes spinning lazily from the living room ceiling and all the walls bustle with paintings (mostly Paula's) and photos of general miscellany. When not engaged in studying/cooking/cleaning, operatic narration of household tasks (In Spanish) is a common theme, as is dressing up and dancing to flamenco music. It seems only logical, then, that we would've all enjoyed watching something like Top Secret! (dubbed over in Spanish) -- which would be a correct assumption to make, because we did. We also seem to eat a lot of Haribo.

The freezing weather (Not nearly as cold as Cambridge, but pretty nippy) has given way to unexpected tracts of sunshine and blue skies. The lack of low-hanging cloud cover does make it much colder when the sun isn't around, but on the whole it's worth it. There's an open gallery here in Edificio San Boal which runs around the central courtyard on the second floor, and just as I get out of class the sun has reached the ideal point for flooding the western front with light. With the chipped archways and sandstone balustrades, deserted courtyard and empty fountain below, looming oak boughs and birdsong, it's the perfect place to relax (And write postcards -- 13 and counting) for an hour or two before tackling grammatical conundrums or translating Renaissance poetry.

Today was rough in terms of the sheer quantity of information absorbed and my general comprehension of it. I wish I had more time to master all the subjects we're covering, but that's not what this year is about. I have to leave something for when I come back. Generally, the key to making this trip successful seems to have been to move on before things have a chance to go stale. Even if it takes a few days (Or a week, in this case) to adjust and realize that the merits of the new location are equal to (or greater than) those of the last, in the end I'm left with a stream of delicious experiences and impressions.

As of now, that gasoline rainbow-covered road stretches quite far into the future. After I brave my final exams next week, I'm flying to Rome. It's looking like I'll be spending just under a week there before I take a train to Florence (possibly with a night in Siena along the way) for whatever time I have left. My only obligation is to be back in the vicinity of Ciampino Airport on the 19th, because the next day I'm fulfilling my mad personal desires and going back to England.

From there I have a month of time for cavorting about in all the quarters I wasn't able to fully enjoy during my last stint -- mostly due to working and the general insanity of Christmas. This includes, but is not limited to, the West Country, friends and relations, Wales, Cambridge, and my mother(!) who will actually be in the country sometime in late February.

So that's all of that. I'll close with something suitably dangerous, like this. If you haven't had the chance to browse the web-based section of the ever-classic McSweeney's publishing collective, please take the opportunity to do so now. (The lists division comes highly recommended for instant gratification purposes.) I only ask that you don't attempt to blame me if you suffer laughter-related injuries.

Dictated but not read.