Still, the positives in France vastly outweighed the countries seemingly huge inefficiencies. In the first few weeks, me and Matt raced a tram, played against a group of French guys at football and even though we lost 7-6 it was probably one of the best games I've ever played in, and regularly went to Mezzanine, where everyone partied, except the Americans who seemed to use the club scene to discuss the American Civil War/ The War of Northern Aggression (as Lacy labelled it) in detail.
By the time I went home for a week in November, I almost didn't want to leave, yet as me and my future wife Sam got on the plane in Basel, I couldn't wait to see the guys in Bath and get things you just don't get in France, namely efficiency in everyday life and BACON. OMG, if there are two things I had missed up until this point it was watching Premiership football and eating proper bacon (of course family and friends I missed guys too :-) ). On returning in November, we had some crazy nights at Laura's, where we learnt never to give Lorcan a camera, after we took 160 photos in the space of 2 hours.
The highlight of the month though, was the lads trip to Prague with Matt and Patrick. Setting off for Kehl at 9 at night, we made the 15 hour journey to Prague through the early hours via 3 trains and 1 bus from Nuremberg to Prague at the end. We found blood all over the platform at Frankfurt, and spent 2 hours waiting there expecting to be confronted by a frosties killer (cereal killer -gettit? haha). We then got told to get up of the ground by some German policeman who thought we were hobos. On making it to Prague and staying with a lovely family, Patrick snored so loud on their bed he probably produced more decibels than your average Boeing 747. We went to Beer Factory on the main street, where you pour your own pints and it measures how much you've drunk in litres. Much to the probably dismay of our Czech hosts, we ran down the hill from the castle on the last day having sword fights before heading back the next day. I think Matt fell in love with his camera on the journey back, taking no fewer than 38 photos of the long road ahead from the front of the top of our double decker bus. Still a bit confused by that Pizz.
December came and went in Strasbourg, with the Christmas markets being everywhere, freezing cold temperatures of minus 13 degrees at the lowest (which incidentally killed 8 homeless people in a week over the border in Germany) and the exams were upon us. After horror at Michelle Benoit's leather trousers and pure anger at Monsieur Clement cancelling an exam on the day we were supposed to have it, we began the epic journey of getting home. Flights were cancelled cos of the weather. The Eurostar shut down. Thus began an epic race of getting home on time for Christmas. I made it home in the early hours of December 22nd sitting between two of my favourite people from the year abroad on the plane home, the legendary Pete Sawyer and Toto Padden.
By the time mid January came and I had completed my exams and spent some time hanging out for the last time as a Strasmus (Strasbourg Erasmus student), I headed home to England once more, having been given a nice send-off from the station by Sam, Laura and Lacy. I began 6 weeks of work at home getting ready for Konstanz. Thing is though, could Konstanz possibly be as good as Strasbourg? As it turns out, it was. If Strasbourg was Christophe Dugarry, Konstanz was Zinedine Zidane (minus the headbutt), if Strasbourg was a man on a good salary at an insurance firm, Konstanz was Richard Branson, and if Strasbourg was completely inefficient in terms of the uni and bureaucracy, Konstanz would just shit all over it. And it did :-)
(To be concluded)
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