by Yesterday I paid my rent and expenses (a mixture of euros and lei; yes it’s crazy) at my landlady’s work, near the Timișoreana beer factory. My charge for gas and electricity was higher than usual even though my power usage was completely normal. I paid up anyway. My landlady burst into tears as she has on about the last six occasions I’ve visited her. It seems to be something to do with her husband, who she described yesterday as a vegetable. On leaving her office, I saw a man of about sixty collapse in the street. I tried helping him to his feet, and soon got some assistance. I could smell the alcohol on him. A lady from a nearby office brought out a chair. I called the ambulance and handed my phone to another woman. While we waited for the ambulance (it took about five minutes to arrive) the man was sick on the ground, and the rich plummy aroma of palincă filled the air. The paramedics found the situation mildly amusing; they’d clearly seen it all before.
My Romanian seems to have stagnated. On the odd occasions I get to chat in a relaxed situation in Romanian, I manage fine, but those occasions are very odd indeed. Weekly, perhaps even fortnightly. And that’s the problem. I could really do with some formal lessons too, but they’re hard to come by.
Tomorrow I’m off to the UK. It’ll be my first taste of Wizz Air. I expect to arrive in St Ives around 9pm. I’ll have an early start the next morning as I’ll be meeting my university friend in London. We’ll probably meet outside the British Museum, but after that we have no real plans.
