No place like home

The last couple of weeks have been an interesting experience to say the least, as I managed to completely forget that it was Easter...twice. Easter in Russia is the week after ours, and here it is a strictly religious celebration, so there is by no means the commercial song and dance that we see in England. Out and about on Easter Sunday, there is no real evidence that it is different from any other day. 

The upshot of this is that on several occasions I managed to forget both English and Russian Easters, and, worse, completely forgot to watch the travesty that was the 2012 Boat Race. Luckily, however, I remain completely in tune with British horse racing fixtures and thus coerced an entire corridor of English students into watching the Grand National with me.

I have never been away from home on Grand National day, and most years have spent the day reading up on the horses with my dad, phoning my sisters to discuss odds and waiting for my mum to accidentally pick the outsider based on nice colours and name. Consequently I felt for the first time slightly homesick, and was really grateful to be surrounded by a group of good friends from my hotel. It's possibly the first time that I've considered all the benefits of the accommodation system here.

You can choose one of two different kinds of accommodation through the school. Firstly, Gostinitsa “Na Sadovoi” (literally Hotel on Sadovaya). The hotel is connected to the Benedict School, providing rooms for students at the school during their 4-month stay. Not everyone wants to live here, but of the 60 students on the course this semester, around 15 of us are living here. The rooms are twins, and furnished basically – although each has its own sink, fridge and TV (all the mod cons here). The showers and toilets are shared between an entire corridor, but, like the bedrooms, are cleaned every day. Essentially it's like living in halls, except someone also changes your sheets and towels every week and hoovers your carpet daily. Meanwhile, just down the road, there is an exceptionally cheap laundrette where a delightful lady washes and folds all your clothes, and essentially becomes your second mother. The hotel's kitchen is perhaps the biggest source of frustration as it's on a completely different floor and is perpetually locked – plus it is VERY basic (there are hobs...but no oven), which tends to breed an unhealthy over-reliance on the too-convenient 24-hour pizza place next door to the hotel. Plus if you know you go to bed at 10.30, or you have an issue with personal space, the twin rooms are probably not for you. But for 15000ru (£300) a month, Gostinitsa “Na Sadovoi” is a great place to be – it's a great base for socialising and the perfect place to settle into the city quickly and make loads of course friends. On top of that, the location is amazing, as it's a ten minute walk (at most) from the school and within easy walking distance of the most historic areas and famous monuments of the city.

Russia is a daunting place to move to for the first time, so I've found the atmosphere at the hotel perfect to help me settle in. People who have lived here before, however, might want a bit more of a challenge, in which case a homestay is often the preferred option. In this case between one and four students will be assigned to the home of a Russian host in St Petersburg. This is the ideal situation for people who are looking to speak more Russian outside school – especially those who have already spent a semester in the country. It is about 2000ru more expensive than the hotel, but that includes breakfast, and you can also pay for dinners with your host. The homestays are dotted around the city, and can sometimes be quite far from the school, but are mainly easy to reach. Be warned, however: while 99% of students are placed with people who become a second family for their stay here, 1% have some...interesting...experiences with their hosts. One in particular springs to mind – a friend who moved into the hotel after several run-ins with cockroaches, on the floor, in the kitchen, in her bed. Nevertheless, she is now settling in with a new, and seemingly much better-suited, family. I would also caution against assuming that a homestay is a fast-pass to speaking Russian – you will most likely be staying with several other English students in the flat, and quite often friends have reported back that the host speaks English with them for ease.

There are pros and cons to either option, and either way you will have to put in the effort to speak Russian outside school; however mostly people's opinions of both are positive. Some students with contacts have found private flats for themselves and friends, however if you're looking to find accommodation simply and easily, the Benedict School organises both the hotel and homestay for you.

A quick note on organising everything through the school – coming to Russia for the first time is daunting enough as it is, without having the stress of organising all the admin as well, so having the school sorting everything out is extremely useful. One thing to mention would be the group flights – many of us took the the group flight (and are therefore booked on the home-bound group flight as well), which was a great way to meet people initially and removed all the stress of arriving, getting through customs and finding your accommodation alone. However, it does set you back around £100 more than your average BA return flight, essentially for the bus ride to the hotel (a taxi costs around £30, and the public bus is about £5). Considerably cheaper journeys here include getting a flight to Tallinn or Riga, and taking a coach from there to St Petersburg...although of course that does involve an epic coach journey.

Travel arrangements aside, it seems that in the majority of cases, you can't really go wrong with accommodation out here – and those who have found difficulties have been quickly and easily relocated. Within a week or so, you can be pretty assured that you'll feel completely settled and will have made loads of friends. Within a month or two you'll be close enough to them that they're your second family and loud arguments about British horse-racing are totally acceptable. Now I know I'm completely at home.

Helen's week(s) from hell

Having just had to cancel my debit card and order a new one, I'm hoping that my run of bad luck is finally over – and if it's not too much to ask, I wouldn't mind some good luck as well now.

 

Two weeks into term, I sat down to write the first and only important document I needed to compose since moving to Russia, and my computer suffered some sort of internal technological implosion. I'm not a technologically competent person at the best of times, but even I knew that the message “Windows Explorer has stopped working” followed by an immediate shutdown is not a good sign. Various computer-wizards (friends, former boyfriends, brothers-in-law) weighed in on the discussion and also concluded that I needed professional help. The answer, seemingly, is to find a Компьютерный Мир – literally Computer World. The lovely man I saw, presumably pitying my poor knowledge of anything technical (including Russian vocab), agreed to try to fix my laptop overnight for the grand total of 300ru – about £6. Before I left England it cost about £30 just to clean my laptop, so I think that's a pretty good deal. As it was, whatever had killed my laptop has killed it so conclusively that my Russian computer hero couldn't fix it – but he didn't charge me for his time, so it was worth trying. I was eventually able to get a friend's boyfriend to bring a new one out for me a couple of weeks later; however, looking at laptops over here there's a completely “normal” range of brands for completely normal (and occasionally slightly cheaper) prices. I state this as though it's surprising, as if Russian people don't use laptops – but sometimes there is a tendency to panic and jump to the conclusion that outside England nothing works, when really there's actually no need.

Which is just as well, because the same day that I was told my computer was, to all intents and purposes, dead, I also discovered that my camera was gone from my bag. The question of whether it was lost or stolen is a difficult one and as the insurance claim is ongoing I won't go into it – but as it wasn't in the last location I had it, someone had 'found' it. And not handed it in. Bitter feelings about this aside, you have to react to things like this pretty quickly if you want to put in an insurance claim. I needed to get a police crime number to be able to make a claim, and in order to do this in Russia a crime needs to be reported within eight hours of it being committed. Luckily the language school has some very helpful Russian reps who could accompany me to the station. Do NOT go to the police in this country on your own unless you know exactly what you're doing and you have a fluent level of Russian. They were pretty suspicious of me even with a Russian speaker who dealt with the whole discussion for me, and even then the officer wasn't convinced he should help us out. In the end it was mainly the fact that I needed the statement for the claim rather than a desire to get the whole police force searching St Petersburg for my camera that led him to give us the relevant forms. At that point I then had to give three signed copies of the same statement, information about my purpose in Russia and details of my addresses and phone numbers in Russia and England, as well as providing my original passport and registration card. Here you really have to be prepared with every bit of information you might be asked for. I might add that the same is reasonably true of the insurance company, who needed scans and emails of all proof of ownership for the camera. So I strongly advise anyone who doesn't want a rainforest-worth of paperwork to keep a close eye on their possessions at all times.

So there we go, over one fortnight my laptop, camera and debit card all abandoned me. Ironically when trying to explain this to my parents, I also discovered that my English phone can no longer take calls unless on loudspeaker, and sometimes not even then. Now might be an appropriate time to say, “In Russia, technology breaks you...” but I found that actually, there's no point worrying about it – like anywhere else, these problems are all solvable, and in St Petersburg there's no point caving in to stress about these things when there's so much else to enjoy. Luckily I can now document it all with my new camera (see right and below)...Just don't expect me to phone you about it anytime soon.

Registration and assimilation

So I've now been in Russia for three weeks (I haven't yet blogged due to a series of unfortunate events which I'll relate in my next post) and I feel relatively settled here. As I said in my last post, this country is completely different to anywhere I've ever lived before, so it's been an interesting experience – but surprisingly easy.

The natural starting point in the discussion of settling in is probably registration, which is actually probably the scariest thing I've yet encountered here – simply because our reps at the Benedict School, the RLUS language school in St Petersburg, have to make sure that we have fun here, but also that it's safe, legal fun. We've been given all the obvious warnings about places and people to avoid – certain canals, for example, are not sensible places to walk alone at 3am. Behaviour is also a big issue in general, as being loud and British does tend to draw attention, some of it unwanted. Even a conversation in English in the supermarket can cause people to turn and stare open-mouthed, so being drunk and obnoxious late at night is evidently not a good idea.

That being said, these are problems that you encounter in any country – in fact in London there are numerous places I wouldn't walk at night, and while being British isn't so much of an issue, there will always be groups of people who can find a problem with you. However there are also legal issues that don't crop up in other countries that you need to be aware of. Police can at any point request to see your documents, which means that you need them on your person at all times, mainly because it's illegal not to, but also so that if you need help, you can get it. You aren't obliged to carry originals, so it's better to leave your passport at home when possible, because losing it and getting a replacement is a nightmare. Otherwise, you should carry a photocopy of your passport, visa, registration card and migration card. You will fill in both halves of the migration card on the plane, and the arrival one is taken from you at Customs – do NOT forget to take the departure half with you from the airport. The registration card is even more important, but that will be filled in either by the Benedict School or by the hotel in which some students live (see accommodation blog, to be written soon...) 

Of course, all these documents should match up with names, passport numbers etc, and should be enough to satisfy the authorities.

Just in case this ISN'T the case, it's a good idea to obtain a Russian phone as soon as possible and save all the numbers of reps and emergency contacts in it. This is simple compared to everything else – the language school gave us all a free Beeline SIM card which fits most unlocked European phones. Topped up in the street, these SIMs are ludicrously cheap compared to British rates, with one text message costing around 0.02p, and international calls costing about £2 for 10 minutes rather than the £1.20/min of some British companies. Internet is equally easy to sort out – as soon as you purchase a dongle from Beeline or MTS you have unlimited internet for around £9 a month.

Once you've registered, connected to the Russian-speaking world, and re-connected with the English-speaking world, you can start to learn the language and explore the city. It does feel very, very different from England, but it isn't actually that hard to settle in. The administration side of things is sorted out pretty quickly and after that life gets much easier. Oh, unless your laptop dies in the third week of term. More on that, and other aspects of Helen's Week From Hell, next time... 

Another year, another (very different) country...

Firstly, a belated happy new year to everyone. After a relaxing Christmas, I came back to London with big intentions to spend six carefree weeks travelling around the UK seeing friends and family and hanging out with university friends in the Union. Within about a week I decided it was a bit stupid to spend my student loan doing that when I need it for such useful things as staying alive in Russia. Within two weeks, it had become painfully apparent that I needed the time to actually prepare to move to Russia.

Russia is a famously difficult country to get into and out of, and it’s not all about booking flights. I have found that there are a series of hoops to be jumped though, in a very formal and very specific order.

Going out as part of an English study group, my departure has been made considerably easier through having group flights booked and accommodation pre-arranged. That being said, the visa application process alone took a considerable length of time to complete. The form is extraordinarily long, and demands to know every country you have visited in the last ten years, and the dates on which you last held a Russian visa – cue desperate phone calls home. It’s the last time I laugh at my mother for keeping old passports and plane tickets.

Questions ranged from the commonplace home address and next-of-kin details to “Do you work for a nuclear facility?”, “Are you trained to handle weapons?” and (presumably a deal-breaker) “Have you ever been extradited from Russia?” Luckily my life hasn’t been long or interesting enough to answer yes to any questions like that. 

Answers have to be checked and double-checked – the smallest mistake can lead to your application being rejected or you not being allowed into the country at all. Arrive a day earlier than stated on your visa, for example, and you can expect a night in the airport at the very least. I also remember a small and nervous history teacher on a school trip being marched away by two huge Russians at Moscow airport because of a slight paperwork discrepancy. Anyone who knows said teacher can understand that he evidently posed the country so little threat that eventually they gave him back and let us in.

To complete the application, you have to gather all relevant paperwork together: application form – check. Passport – check. Passport photo – check. University support letter – check. £76.50(!) to cover the application cost – check. HIV test – ch – wait, HIV test? Yes, to get a Russian visa, you first have to prove that you’re not bringing AIDS into the country.

Actually getting this test is relatively simple. There’s a walk-in clinic near to UCL where the blood test is done and results and official “Congratulations, no HIV” letter are ready in 10 minutes. Nonetheless, going in almost certain that I was going to be HIV-negative, I still found it pretty awkward, and made quite a big deal of announcing to the receptionist and all the other patients in the waiting room that I was applying for a visa. I also didn’t enjoy leaving a sexual health clinic so close to my university holding a formidable brown envelope that might as well have had “SEXUAL DISEASE RESULTS” printed all over it in big red letters.

However, that done, I could give my application in. Aside from needing UCL to put a more recent date on the cover letter I gave in, the process was then very simple, and the visa only took five days to be ready. For those not in London it’s possible to do the whole process by post, and you can also have an express service to get your passport back in two days. Although if it costs £80 to do it in person, normal service, I dread to think what express costs.

Although time-consuming, this is the most I’ve really had to do in preparation. Naturally it’s wise to do a bit of language and work preparation in the remaining free time. Otherwise it’s all about shopping for a decent pair of boots and a bazillion t-shirts to layer up for the remainder of the Russian winter.

As I’m spending eight months out of the country, it’s been great to have a few weeks to have a normal English life to catch up with friends. Work-wise it’s been time that I’ve really needed to make use of, and a good chance to draw a line under the work and language of one country and prepare for it in the next. In fact, I’ve found that general “official” preparation isn’t too difficult.

But the process is so different from that of moving to France that it’s really highlighted the fact that Russia is most definitely not in the EU, and is still a society very different in norms and expectations from our own. I’m incredibly excited to sample this society. But I’ve also realised that in a six-week period a bit of mental preparation for a relocation to Russia won’t go amiss.

Pour Conclure...

So, I have returned to cold, cold England. The benefits of this involve Christmas, family, friends, and bacon. The downsides include no Mediterranean sun, no Erasmus friends, and no Lays bolognese-flavoured crisps.

The last two weeks of my Erasmus experience was entirely consumed by exams, which to me seemed quite unfair, really. Everyone always returns from abroad saying it was the best experience of their life – and I don’t understand how that can possibly involve exams. But still, there was something comforting in them. As I sat my final paper, it occurred to me that I was in the lecture theatre where our introductory lecture had been held. Four months ago, we all sat there for an hour, and then left hoping that all the other Erasmus students had understood as little as we had. By December, we were writing three-hour exams in French on literature, philosophy, linguistics and even Occitan. Even if the material was difficult, writing in French, thinking in French, was second-nature.

So at least the ‘Improve language’ box has been ticked. And what about the ‘Have time of life’ box? This is definitely everyone’s biggest expectation, and probably their biggest let-down. You won’t have the time of your life. You will have to deal with relationship difficulties, crazy landladies, terrible administration, and important deadlines which nobody tells you about. So don’t be deceived into thinking that every day abroad will be a ball, a four month holiday with no challenges. Let’s face it – the people who describe it in this rose-tinted way are the fourth years who have just moved back to a frankly very grey and drizzly country to start their finals.

But I do understand what they mean when they say that it’s one of the best things you’ll ever do. Living abroad will improve your independence and self-confidence in a way that moving to an English university can’t. You’ll meet people and have experiences that you would never have been introduced to at home. You'll see amazing new places. For me, the first four months have helped me find an inner strength and confidence I didn’t even know I had.

So no, this is not the most amazing experience ever. Sometimes, honestly, it’s rubbish. But living abroad is still the best thing you can do to improve your language, and on a personal level, it has to be up there as one of the most fulfilling things you can do with your life. As long as you’re realistic about the ups and downs of moving country it is a genuinely positive experience.

Russia may be completely different – I have no idea. But instead of going out there apprehensive, I’m excited for the challenges I’ll be facing, because while I understand that elements won’t go perfectly, I also know that I’ll overcome them to have a brilliant time. So until then, Happy Christmas, Happy 2012, and onwards to St Petersburg...

Under Pressure

It had to be a Queen title for this post. As I announced over lunch (somewhat killing the sunny vibe), this week marked twenty years since the death of legend Freddie Mercury. More pertinently, however, ‘under pressure’ is probably the best way to describe the Erasmus students of Montpellier at the moment.

I haven’t blogged recently as we have presentations, dossiers and exams to prepare for left, right and centre. However, surviving abroad isn’t all about opening bank accounts, picking courses and passing exams. It’s also about embracing all the things there are available to you in the city that will be your home for at least four months. So in this post I will mainly be trying to cheer everyone up by talking about all the excitement Montpellier has on offer.

For all our complaining about the poor administration of the city and the frankly ridiculous exam system of the university, day-to-day Montpellier offers us everything from cultural places to good drinking establishments. For those seeking a bit of culture, or something to show the parents, the Musée Fabre displays works from classical sculpture to modern art, with constantly changing exhibitions and events, and is free to students at Université Montpellier III (Paul-Valèry). Montpellier’s cathedral, whose architecture is spectacular, boasts a stunning interior and, despite having sustained damage in the Wars of Religion in the 16^th century, was rebuilt and remains a central part of the historic city. If you’re seeking a quiet corner to soak up the Mediterranean atmosphere, the place to go is the Jardin des Plantes, the oldest botanical garden in France.

For the more energetic people, there is no better way to take in Montpellier’s real beauty than by heading to the viaduct, or alternatively the helipad at the top of the Corum. Both offer stunning panoramic views over the city and towards the mountains. When you feel like there’s nothing you’d like better than to fly home to England, watching a sunset from the Corum with a group of friends and a bottle of wine is the perfect way to remind you of just how lucky you are to be in the south of France.

Montpellier manages to offer not only mountain views, but beaches as well – 15 minutes away on the bus, there is the Grande Motte and Palavas les Flots, both beautiful beaches which are perfect for a Sunday afternoon lounge in the sun or swim in the sea right until the end of October. And if you want a bit of excitement, Palavas has a bull-running event at the end of September which is worth checking out for a bit of local culture! Being in the Med is such a hard life.

If you’re more interested in the natural world, the zoo is the place to be. Free of charge, and spread over a vast space, it houses animals from all over the world in large natural environments – and if you can’t get close to the animals themselves, there’s also wooden sculptures of them which provide an excellent play area for 20-something students to run wild. The Serre Amazonienne costs only €3 for students, and is a tropical paradise to wander round. And the tarantula is hidden round a corner, so you only have to see it if you go looking for it (I didn’t.). On a rainy day, the zoo’s alternative is the aquarium, out at Odysseum. At €12,50 for students, it’s more expensive than the majority of the city’s attractions, but offers everything from penguins to sharks and is well worth checking out.

Odysseum is found at the end of tramline 1, and is frankly an odd place. Absolutely huge, it comprises a shopping centre and numerous activities spread out over two tram stops, here including bowling, go-karting, a cinema, an ice-rink and a planetarium, all of which cost students about €4 - €10. Be warned, there is an arcade by the bowling alley, so we spent considerably more while bowling than we’d intended, due to several vicious air-hockey games. After you’ve worn yourself out indulging in all the activities you haven’t done since the age of 12, you can head to Tommy’s Diner, a neon pink American restaurant, where you listen to classic rock’n’roll, eat proper American burgers and feel like you’re in Back to the Future or Grease.

And so finally I come to what is arguably the most important aspect to all student readers – the nightlife. The place to start would be where we started – Estivales. Running along the Esplanade every Friday night from July – September, Estivales is a soirée which promotes local produce, from wine and food to clothing and jewellery. If you buy a glass for €3, you get three glasses of local wine, and with the Esplanade lit up and live music until midnight, it’s a weekly summer street party. And now it’s November, we’re awaiting the opening of the Christmas market next week, which will run every day from the 3^rd December until Christmas itself.

In terms of pubs and clubs, be warned – beer is extremely expensive over here! Wine is much cheaper, but all in all if you’re heading out for the night, you’ll want to find good happy hours, which often still only reduce the prices to what we’re used to in England. The Rebuffy is a great pub to go to as it feels very French, is in a nice little square, offers a wide selection of board games, and has very good wine for very little money!

Of course, the highlight of every week is the pub quiz at the Shakespeare. Every Tuesday we arrive early, grab a table and play overly-competitive card games or Trivial Pursuit until the quiz starts. In fact a few weeks back we threw off the clearly unlucky shackles of team name Quizteama Aguilera and stormed to victory as Quizpy Fried Duck. Unfortunately we haven’t managed to repeat that success yet, but we’re still flying a pretty respectable quiz flag for the UK and savouring our win (shame we didn’t savour the first-place bottle of whiskey).

So while we feel the pressure of the looming exams, the cultural and social benefits here are second to none. And if you’ve really exhausted everything Montpellier has to offer, there’s always brilliant train connections to various French cities for relatively low prices (get the 12 -25 railcard) I’m heading to Paris for the weekend, then coming back just in time for the Christmas market. Sure there’s pressure...but there’s also the fact that you’re living in France. Make the most of it.

Vigilance Rouge : severe storms with a chance of a heavy workload forecast for reading week.

This week saw the end of Toussaint, the French equivalent of October half term or reading week. This marks the beginning of the downward slope to the end of the first half of my year abroad – in six weeks I’ll have ‘done’ France and be heading home.

It also marks the first serious pieces of work I’ve been given to complete for the university: a commentary, an essay, three presentations to start planning – all of which count towards my final exams, which start in four weeks. Now is probably a good time to reflect on the first half of my actual studying time here.

European universities work with the scheme of ECTS (European Credit Transfer and Accumulation System), in which students have to take 60 credits per academic year. The requirements of British universities when it comes to selecting modules abroad vary – I’ve met some people who are doing courses to the value of 12 ECTS for the semester, and others who are doing 30. 

UCL requires its pupils to take 23 to 30 ECTS for one semester, and to pass a minimum of 23. We also have to complete a personal project, to be examined orally on our return to university in September. Other universities may stipulate fewer modules, but convert the exam marks for your final grade for the year. It’s important to know exactly what your exams are going to count for before jumping in at the deep end with course choices. Most people from UCL have tried to take about 27, as we’ve discovered that 30 results in an insane timetable, but 23 may not cover you if something goes wrong – for example if you fail a module, or, as one friend found, a teacher changes your timetable halfway through the term.

And it is quite a blind jump. In Montpellier, we’ve found that you can take your pick from virtually any course, open to any year group, at the university. You can mix-and-match between departments. You can even study a few modules of another language, if you’re brave enough. The only real rule is that you can’t study any courses in or about English.

The choice of courses is a process of trial and error – many of us only finalised our timetable by the third week of lessons. Firstly, you have to establish what courses are available during your semester. Then you have to find out how many ECTS they’re worth. Taking our 23 – 30 ECTS requirement as the example, you then have to put together about 27 units worth of courses that look interesting and/or manageable. THEN you head to the noticeboards. This is where the fun really starts. Most departments (not all, because that would be too much like having one standard process throughout the university) put their timetables for the term on their noticeboards, so that, having sorted out what you think you want to do, you can see just how many of your classes clash, and head back to the drawing board.

When you’ve finally got a working timetable, you have to make sure you’re signed up for the classes that fill up really quickly, for example first year literature. It’s best to do this as soon as possible to ensure you get a place – you can always un-enrol later and exam enrolment is a completely different process, so if the class is too tough, it doesn’t matter that much. Enrolment does of course adhere to the usual method of every department having its own process – some you have to enrol online, some on paper, some both, some neither.

So when you’ve worked your entire timetable out, and enrolled for everything, you can start attending lessons – you’re not necessarily in the clear just yet, as some may simply prove too hard. Two weeks in, I sat through a second year class of Medieval History. I left at the break, without the first idea of what had been said, and needing to find myself another 5 credits.

However, you do work it out eventually – and teachers aren’t really bothered by people arriving two or three weeks in. Most seem very understanding about Erasmus students, and want to give you all the help they can.

So, I’ve ended up doing a selection of translation (easy to understand and great for language practice), literature (fine, the tutors are quite understanding to the plight of the Erasmus student), philosophy (hard but interesting), a course called ‘Origines et Diversité des langues’ (great, the tutor does a PowerPoint of all the notes, so you don’t miss any) and (perhaps foolishly) Occitan. 

Occitan is the regional language of parts of the south of France, and isn’t really used much, if at all, today. The culture lessons are taught by a typically bumbling history professor who goes off at tangents and potentially has never heard of ‘Erasmus students’. The language lessons are taught through the medium of poetry, song and dance. So I’d advise you to take Occitan only if you’re happy to be a little confused, and if you don’t mind looking like an idiot as you flap your arms to differentiate between a big bird and a little bird. That said, it is quite amusing.

Aside from the odd moments of confusion, though, it’s working out pretty well. Luckily, reading week also seemed to herald the beginning of monsoon season, as a week of constant storms ensued, Languedoc-Roussillon flooded, and we were put on ‘Vigilance Rouge’. We were advised not to go out unless we had to, and told to stock up on essentials and drinking water etc. Panic stations, essentially. I haven’t left my house properly in five days – but this might not be the worst thing, as it’s given me time to get on top of all my work. It’s hit me just how much there is to be done over the next few weeks, and kick-started the really serious bit of the Erasmus experience – studying French properly. So grudgingly, thank you Weather Gods. But not for the pool of water by my window.