fireworked

what was fireworks two nights ago turned out to be a night on a terrace at a university where mandy had some friends staying last winter. we dropped by to see if they had any beds for the next night. sadly, the afternoon porter said, we do not. but i will let you pop up stairs to use the internet and search for other accommodation's.

we thanked him kindly and he smiled and said it wasn't a problem. he had a french accent and spoke french and all this was translated to me as we trotted up the stairs.

our internet search yielded very little; but what can one expect, really? gmail and myface don't post hostel availability. we just about settled into a proper search when James tapped mandy on the shoulder and sat down with his guitar. he solved our problem by offering his floor for as long as we needed it and invited us out to share some songs and wine and stories from north america.

we sat long into the night, that is until our friend the afternoon porter came to check on his little investment. we apologized and smiled and he warily returned it. you can imagine his worry when the two strangers he had given a passcard to had turned up missing and presumed wandering the halls. lucky for him we were nice people in the company of other nice people.

the fireworks were last night and included a song set from the famous James Blunt. He told us we were beautiful and that he was watching us breathing for the last time. Rather creepy as we don't know him all that well but I suppose that's karma returning the favour of us overstaying the Afternoon Porters welcome the day before.