I sat through the sandy-haired lecturer’s explanation of how to apply for a year abroad in France then took the ‘handout’ at the end. This took the form of three tiny orange cards, rather like rail tickets. There was little point in my keeping them. I had only attended the session out of politeness. Indeed, of the five people in the audience only one seemed to keen to go to France, and even she had doubts: she wanted to be certain that she could park her car in the host city if she decided to take the year abroad.
Afterwards R and I went to the Little Chef on campus for lunch. There we were joined by TPR (unexpectedly) and JH.
One of the women at our table was interested in recyling tinfoil. I offered her a huge sheet. It the size of a double duvet cover. She gladly accepted it, even though it was marked with Marmite.