Our room was a bit basic but it could still outwit us in a mildly taxing situation. It almost got taken from us in a massive debate. Despite not originally being able to count to forty had arsed up the rooms as well. A change around was threatened, something that clearly terrified JD and me who couldn�t imagine being spilt up or invading design students penetrating our cocoon of familiarity. Mary assumes that, as we�re standing near some strange people that we know them, like them and want to room with them. After a while we�re assigned our old room back in a pointless but worrying exercise. And what a room it is! One curtain and a mysterious sound of flushing every ten minutes. A TV, Atmosphere polluted by my feet, a room with a view, a view of JD�s boxer shorts and all my crap splattered around. We had a crappy key that failed to open the door at first, second and third. It took absolutely ages to get in. I never managed to get it to open and it took JD ages. Meanwhile nearby Canadians laughed at our supposed technical incompetence. They tried and gave up. I gave up. JD won the prestigious �get in the room� contest. I came second (as in last). Here�s a view from our window.
The communication in the group was such that we discovered that we were going to go and see the Latin quarter that night through a visit to the downstairs loo. It was the most talkative toilet we�d ever seen. Cheap joke (it�s a low budget diary).