Morning came, and we rose covered in petaled sheets (Bog, do I hate the comfort that's intrinsic to the bourgeois way of life, it is so addictive! But then again it's mainly the source of warlike conflicts and heavy stuff of the sort in the long run, if you think about it).
We had some coffee over at a place called "Salieri", which made think of Mozart, which in turn got me thinking of famous rivalries between individuals such as Nietzsche and Wagner... which completely ruined my lunch panini.
After checking out some people, I mean, checking out from the hotel we took one of those red double-decker buses towards King's Cross, where we bought an outrageously expensive train ticket to York.
The ride was fine, we got to talking about life and our family and how students have to learn to cope with almost anything in order to carry on doing "our thang" (e.g. falling-leaky roofs, suspiciously filthy carpets, everyday ramen, cranky teachers with awesome mustaches... bla, bla). Adapt or succumb/perish, right?
York is beautiful. I won't go much into detail (because I tend to do so and I must learn to pace myself) but I'll tell you one thing: if you ever wish to encounter some of the nicest peopleS in all GB, go there IMMEDIATELY.
We had some interesting pub nights, savoring different types of ciders while listening to old people playing the ukulele (singing along, whenever possible). Loving them British tertulias fandangueras, alright.
On our last night we went to the National Railway Museum for my uncle's line of work's yearly gathering-dinner-party. Rumor had it we would see the train they used for the Harry Potter movies, but that was a big fat lie! Anyways, there was free wine and food, so my stomach was able to find a space for forgiveness (right next to the one destined for the dessert). We met a bunch of people from all over the world, and conversed, and conversed a little more after that. We ended up discussing how language and thought are simultaneously the production and result of one's own reality (in perpetual autopoietic reciprocity). These guys work in telecommunication, so it was really interesting for me to see how it is that the people behind our cellphone-internet-networks think, according to their own personal belief system that they end up projecting to the masses (and therefore establishing barriers and pseudo hydrogen bonds between our inputs and outputs in communication).
The next day I woke up as early as possible, said goodbye to my dear consanguineous friend at the station and rode the bus that would take me to Sheffield, for I needed to attend the Erasmus Mundus: "Crossways in Cultural Narratives" masters program Induction (now that was looooong, y'all).
We had some coffee over at a place called "Salieri", which made think of Mozart, which in turn got me thinking of famous rivalries between individuals such as Nietzsche and Wagner... which completely ruined my lunch panini.
After checking out some people, I mean, checking out from the hotel we took one of those red double-decker buses towards King's Cross, where we bought an outrageously expensive train ticket to York.
The ride was fine, we got to talking about life and our family and how students have to learn to cope with almost anything in order to carry on doing "our thang" (e.g. falling-leaky roofs, suspiciously filthy carpets, everyday ramen, cranky teachers with awesome mustaches... bla, bla). Adapt or succumb/perish, right?
York is beautiful. I won't go much into detail (because I tend to do so and I must learn to pace myself) but I'll tell you one thing: if you ever wish to encounter some of the nicest peopleS in all GB, go there IMMEDIATELY.
We had some interesting pub nights, savoring different types of ciders while listening to old people playing the ukulele (singing along, whenever possible). Loving them British tertulias fandangueras, alright.
On our last night we went to the National Railway Museum for my uncle's line of work's yearly gathering-dinner-party. Rumor had it we would see the train they used for the Harry Potter movies, but that was a big fat lie! Anyways, there was free wine and food, so my stomach was able to find a space for forgiveness (right next to the one destined for the dessert). We met a bunch of people from all over the world, and conversed, and conversed a little more after that. We ended up discussing how language and thought are simultaneously the production and result of one's own reality (in perpetual autopoietic reciprocity). These guys work in telecommunication, so it was really interesting for me to see how it is that the people behind our cellphone-internet-networks think, according to their own personal belief system that they end up projecting to the masses (and therefore establishing barriers and pseudo hydrogen bonds between our inputs and outputs in communication).
The next day I woke up as early as possible, said goodbye to my dear consanguineous friend at the station and rode the bus that would take me to Sheffield, for I needed to attend the Erasmus Mundus: "Crossways in Cultural Narratives" masters program Induction (now that was looooong, y'all).
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