New apartment

Hey all,

Another day of class, after which I get a few hours to rebuild my ego a little before I go to sleep and it all starts again. Writing this in my new apartment, which is tiny but fantastic – close enough to walk to school – and am actually in Florence now, instead of miles away. So feeling pretty good about the move so far – the new landlady is charming, voluble – a lecturer in the philosophy of law at a university here – she is off for holidays for a month, but came and picked me up at the old place so I didn't have to get around on public transport with a backpack and way too many books – she was really interesting to talk to. Was a bit nervous about leaving the old place – the secretary informed the matriarch there by phone today about me leaving – she then informed me in ominous tones that Mamma was not at all happy about it. I was expecting trouble – streams of abuse, arm waving, maybe even suicide threats – walking up the stairs I consoled myself that I wouldn't understand any of the abuse, so couldn't be too offended by it – still, I expected to be cowed simply by the tone of voice, like a dog being shouted at. But no, in the end it was no drama, I paid for the three days and left: there were no tantrums at all. I was slightly disappointed.

While waiting for my lift I had a cigar at a nearby cafe – some young local bloke came up and asked “Cuban?” – and then proceeded, as far as I could tell, to try and buy marijuana from me. In addition to being ugly I am apparently suspicious, criminal, sinister. Silver lining is that it mostly keeps me out of trouble. Anyway, I had this hot chocolate stuff which came in a packet – the guy at the shop mixed it up with boiling water, and that was it – but it had the consistency of melting ice-cream – bought a couple of packets of it to send home. Have already met my new flatmate because he was the only other bloke at the table at dinner last night – is a German opera singer, which is why he is studying Italian – seemed nice enough at dinner, although it was a bit hard to tell – his attention was focused on a vaguely terrifying black-eyed woman – a Norwegian psychologist and professional poker player who is studying Italian for reasons I can only guess at, but which surely can't be good.

Photos are a view from a street near the school – the school is just off the piazza where that church you can see is – I still have not been inside – the queues are far too long and I don't have the time to wait in-between classes. Will try early in the morning one weekend. Then hot chocolate, my new bedroom, the new washing machine I can use more than once a week (so long as I approach it on my knees, like a god), my new bathroom – I should be able to have a shower without hitting my head if I stick to the right of the cubicle – and finally, the new stove and fridge that I can use whenever I feel like it.

Nice to be back online properly, at last. Also, one cool thing did happen in class today – one girl asked another how she was, she replied that she was pretty good, but a little bit tired. I understood what they said, which made me pretty happy, although I still had to translate it and would not be able to form the sentence myself.

Cheers, B.