I arrived in medieval France very late for the third year of my degree programme.  All of my fellow students had arrived on time and already found cheap accommodation. I pitied them, sleeping sardine-fashion along the gutters of the village square.

I knew that it would cost a fortune, but I would be looking for an apartment for the duration of my stay. I told SPC that I would pay my rent in butter. She wished me luck with that plan, suspecting that such currency would be easily stolen. (She was right.)

SPC also warned me of the dangers of drink in France during this period of history. A fellow student named Alice had died after consuming a bottle of vodka every day for three months.