36 Hours

I'm blogging here from one of the self-contained wee rooms for 1st year undergrads at Leeds. There's an abandoned cemetery outside and a big horse chestnut growing right up to the window. During the two weird weeks of visa limbo a thought that kept me going was Guinness and a read of The Guardian (a proper paper one you can hold in your hand). Which I've just had.

Yesterday morning I was in Libya.

Everything with the new job seems to be going as expected. Except that there's a shisha cafe within spitting distance of my room. Will I never be free? I haven't tried it yet, but that's only because creeping jet lag has overcome the burning need for a big old blast of mint flavoured tobacco.

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