How to speak French – again (Rousse)

I was back at the University of Birmingham under the care of Mr H. He questioned my motivation for joining the second year class. What was I doing here? Didn’t I already hold a first degree, as well as a Masters and a PhD? My response was simple. I just wanted to be able to speak French again.

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Grow your own pearl bracelet on the Isle of Skye (Rousse)

After I lost TPR in LIDL I popped down to the beach on the Isle of Skye to watch the opening Edinburgh Fringe performance. The “comedy” was truly terrible. At the interval I left discreetly. I would spend the rest of the afternoon beach-combing.

From the shore I gathered some beautiful green granite pebbles that would make fabulous pendants when polished. My big discovery of the afternoon, however, was that if you kept your hands in the salty rock pools for long enough, tiny seed pearl bracelets would start to grow naturally around your wrists.

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Catch a falling star – in West Sussex (Rousse)

I was catching tiny red stars in my outstretched palms. These had fallen from the shower that could now be seen making its way across the meadow to the east of my sister J’s house.

I asked TPR why such stars travelled so low. In his explanation he described the three main types of meteoroid. It was considered very rare for anyone to experience a local star shower as I had just done. I glanced down at my small collection of astronomical treasure and felt very privileged indeed.

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Sunshine in the Highlands, a glug jug and a job offer in New York (Rousse)

I hoped for good weather to show off the highlands to my sister-in-law SB. She had never travelled so far up the country before and I wanted her first impressions of the north of Scotland to be memorable for the right reasons. I was both delighted and relieved when, at last, the clouds parted to reveal the beauty of the hilly crags set against blue skies.

We broke the journey in a pretty town north of Aberdeen. As we walked the length of the high street I wondered if this was where Professor PR lived. There were certainly plenty of antique shops here to keep him entertained. In one shop window I spotted an unusual green glug jug. I would have loved to pop in and check the price but I knew that my mother would worry if we were late. I therefore worked hard to ignore the temptation and marched briskly past the shop, SB in tow behind me.

Then my iPhone rang. The call from New York was a job offer from the United Nations. I was furious that they had even dared to call. Surely they knew that I should never be disturbed when on holiday?!

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Elton John and the transsexual mother-of-the-bride (Rousse)

Everything about the wedding was on a gigantic scale. No wonder the bride was permanently in tears. Her mother had invited everyone that she had ever met to the reception, including a tiny man from her church who turned up in jeans. He couldn’t believe his luck. During pre-dinner drinks he sat on my knee like a pleased toddler, and asked me if I knew that my mother-in-law was formerly a man.

Even my friend LG got an invitation. She took advantage of participation to gather ideas for her own forthcoming nuptials at Murrayfield Stadium in Edinburgh. Only TPR was missing. When I eventually found him I noticed a set of numbers tattooed over his left cheek. He was forced to confess that he’d been on a work trip to Farnborough. The tattoo was a souvenir of team-building exercises.

Along with its impressive scale, the wedding included some unique touches that would be remembered by the guests for many years to come. As a veteran of many similar events I thought I’d seen it all before. However, the yellow plastic rafts to transport guests along the river from the service to the reception were new to me. The star attraction, however, was Elton John in the role of best man. I wondered if he charged for such services.

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Fried chicken and a saucy professor (Belle)

How many more times was I going to have to explain to my father that these were NOT the Lithuanian model factories he insisted they were?  They were simply fried chicken restaurants on Lewisham High Street.  They had however, had their fourth wall removed.  “Just like dolls houses”, I explained to him, as if to a child.

Meanwhile, I was called into Professor Andrea’s study to discuss my Chaucer essay.  Astonishingly, she wasn’t behind the desk but tucked into a single bed that had appeared by the bookcase.  Typical of her to try to get her students to look at her in bed.

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Missing trains and an airborne ice cream (Rousse)

PC and I missed yet another train. This time it was my fault that we were stuck in Cardiff railway station. I wasted the vital three minutes required to walk along the platform to catch the 17:00 service on zipping up my rucksack. At this rate it looked like we would never reach our final destination of a small town just south of Bristol, the name of which began with S.

However, somehow we actually did eventually make it. With EH we wandered around the art gallery where the conference opening reception was in full swing. Then I offered to buy my school friend JB an ice cream. She was extremely grateful until I dropped the cornet on the ground. From there it was picked up by the wind and transported through the air like a kite.

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Commune kitty money worries (Rousse)

CO reckoned that if we pooled the grant, then asked the other members to make a small contribution, our commune could easily afford the £122.50 a week rent on this tower block flat.

TM and SC were certainly up for it, but I had my doubts. I didn’t like the forlorn state of the accommodation. More importantly, I did not want to be responsible for a decision that would later lead to arguments over a tiny sum left in the kitty.

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The perils of shopping in Manchester (Rousse)

My recent experience proved that trading standards really needed to sort out the Manchester market trader problem. A stall owner almost sold me a “solid gold” chain at a knock-down price. I only backed out of the deal when she refused to let me touch the goods without first handing over my cash.

My route back from the market to the hotel was also rather dodgy. Somehow I got lost. The only means of discovering the way home was to climb a steep hill from which there was a full view of the city below. My next problem, however, was how to climb down from the summit. It was so steep and icy, and of the three options for the descent – sledge, ski, or banana slide – none appealed.

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Pensioners unmoved as earthquake strikes Sussex (Rousse)

My in-laws were experienced in earthquake emergency prodedures. They simply followed the drill to lie down on the floor until the last of the shocks had passed through the West Sussex village of Birdham. Meanwhile I did all I could to conceal my panic.

Afterwards TPR passed around a handout about an Edinburgh weekend that he had planned for the family in summer 2012. This proved an interesting diversion for the rest of us as we sunbathed on the patio.

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