1. We take a trip to Guadalajara- a place which Tony tells me is the furthest away you can travel on the Madrid Cercanías railway network. We emerge from a church, La Iglesia de San Ginés, and I fill my lungs with air that smells of summer.
2. A friend and I step into a museum's informational/historical PowerPoint presentation, not only to be educated, but to surround ourselves with Debussy's Claire de Lune. An odd but welcome choice of soundtrack.
3. As we trudge along to the train station I look to my right and see a dusky blue and orange sky with the circle of the Moon perfectly illuminated - dead centre. It both strikes me as ethereal and as something that's come straight out of one of those old O2 adverts with the beautiful, CGI giant planets hanging in the sky.
1. I smell Spring as I walk under the blossom trees that seem to have taken so long to flower on the way to giving the kids an English lesson. The flowers are tiny, pink and perfect.
2. Everywhere is wet and I keep stepping in unexpected puddles on my walk home- but the rain is the silent and sneaky, really fine, gets-everything-completely-wet kind.
3. We sit in Starbucks (something we don't normally do, but we make an exception for the one on the corner of Plaza de España because the view of Gran Vía is lovely) and I warm my hands on my coffee cup. The armchairs are comfy, there is some classic jazz floating around and I am content to sit sleepily as Tony talks to Vanessa and Dave talks to Philibert. A group of the original amigos together again.
1. I am invited for dinner at a friend's house. As we are eating and talking around the table I think of how different last semester's group was; of how much fun it was. Then Caro makes a French joke, everyone laughs and I feel myself grinning about this new, friendly possé.
2. Much to the detriment of getting the Metro home on time, I spend about an hour trying to get Philibert to hone is German 'r' into a flapped Spanish one, as in pero ('but'). The rolled 'r' in perro ('dog') is something we're going to have to work on, but at 1:25am, he is pronouncing pero and espero and ahora perfectly, and I can fly out the door feeling like we've achieved something.
3. A woman on the opposite platform is dancing to whatever is playing on her iPod. She throws some bold shapes and looks like she's all caught up in the rhythm.
1. Mis brazos se temblan. My arms shake and I seem to lose a bit of control over them when I am feeling anxious about something. Then we sit in the cafeteria grande and, as always, there´s a lot to laugh about.
2. I make a crude version of a birthday card out of a neatly folded piece of paper from my notebook for Haruka, who has a 21st birthday today. I plaster it with Domo kun and patterns and pay a lot of attention to the detail - exactly 21 candles on the birthday cake! (I hope she counts them.)
3. Try to make lighthearted something of a serious situation.
1. Hommy and Hammy (a joint nickname inspired by their last names, this refers to Ollie and Andrew) play agony aunt.
2. The boys that I know seem to be very full of wisdom and valuable advice today. One tells me tragic stories of his past, another tells me the way it is. No offence to them, but it´s nice to have a break from squealing girls.
3. My mum and dad have finally gotten around to booking some flights to Madrid! Atlasi Easter, here we come.
There are a plethora of things I've taken mental notes of to write down here over the past month (a hiatus, it's been hectic). I'll be combing through them and adding them as I go along. Also, welcome to Oliver and Andrew, my new, exceedingly English flatmates. God save the Queen.
1. The bus is crammed full of people going home for their extensive Spanish luncheon (roughly 2pm, the Spanish way). Ollie and I have to stand in the gangway and use our sea-legs to stay upright; a girl sitting near to us cracks up laughing every time I make a face or a weird noise in trying not to fall over. I conclude that my face is hilarious and am happy to have contributed to her day.
2. I wonder if it's a mistake to have shared the link to this blog with Ollie and Andrew as they sit in their rooms and holler quotes from my own entries through the flat. Well, it got me writing again!
3. Teaching basic salsa steps to Vanessa, Ollie and Dave outside the faculty in an attempt to get them to come to the class tonight. So lame, so guay.
4. A mention of the moustachio'd man in the small cafeteria has been a long time coming. Today, as I ask what kinds of muffins he has, he mishears and thinks I say "buffets"; then when I say I'll have a chocolate muffin, he helpfully says that I should say "el de chocolate," not "lo de chocolate," then when he pours milk into my coffee he has a bit of a Spanishy-accented sing-song - "Wan kahp off coffee pleeease."
5. During the weekend there is an unexpected heatwave and the air is balmy and it smells like summer. All the Spanish, young and old, congregate in one of the plazas on my way to the Metro, and I spy a fantastic old man lounging on a bench wearing a flat cap, tweed jacket and a pair of those black framed, inch-thick lens glasses, making him look pretty pie-eyed and content in the sun.
We have sadly had to say goodbye to a handful of some of the people who made up the glue of our Erasmus family; Marcus (a.k.a. Jamón Arnie, Señor Jamón) was the first to leave, back to Berlin, and the last couple of weeks we had with him were truly fantastic, dancing salsa and drinking peppermint tea after nights out; Jaeyoon flew back to Korea early this month and we miss her smiley face and her catchphrase, a genuinely awed "...Woooow...". I miss her a lot, she was one of the loveliest people I've met here and she was a top-notch baking buddy. Seohyun has also gone back to Korea. Just a couple of days ago we had a farewell party for her and it was a bit of a bittersweet occasion. That said, there are still a lot of fun times to be had, and although it will be a while until we see each other again, I'm certain that, eventually, we will. ¡Madrid, Madrid!