A Weekend in Sevilla, Spain

I had a really nice past weekend in Sevilla (Seville), Spain with friends from LSE.  We downed palate-pleasing pitchers of sangria and tasty tapas; strolled down orange-tree-lined streets bathed in warm sunshine, and sipped cafe con leche in lovely medieval squares.  Mucho relaxing.

23rd Birthday in Paris

I spent my birthday in Paris, staying with François and his family. Jean and his girlfriend Elodie came up from Nice, and Hana came down from Sweden. It was a really nice weekend.

We spent one day in Normandy, touring the beaches and the war cemeteries (and stopping to sample some cider along the way). It actually felt really important to be there. Seeing cross after cross of 18-year-old, 20-year-old, 22-year-old, row upon row, really put things into perspective.

Jean's lovely girlfriend spoke very little English, so Hana and I tried our hardest to speak as much French as possible. It was exhausting and made me realize how bad my French has gotten, but also it was a lot of fun. Every time I go to France I realize again how much I want to live there at some point, and how important it is to me to get my French up to par.

Also, yes, I'm 23. Two years from 25, which is only 5 years from 30. I'd like to say I don't have a problem with getting older, but part of me really believed I would've accomplished a lot more by this age. I think my 15-year-old self would be simultaneously proud and disappointed by where I am right now. I'm not 100% sure which side he'd be leaning towards; I suppose it doesn't matter anyway.

Halloween Magic

As the weather got colder and the days got shorter and the icy winds blew autumn leaves past my feet as I strolled the dark grey streets of London, it was more than apparent than Halloween was just around the corner.  But alas, I am no longer in Halloween territory.

I tried to round up some friends for an evening outing to an atmospheric english cemetery, telling scary stories by candlelight.  No takers.  I know I'm ridiculous, and I recognize that most people are not.

Luckily Jelena and I were able to go to a candlelit screening of Nosferatu (1922) in the old Union Chapel in Islington.  It was very cool, very gothic, very halloweeny.  But as we walked out of the church at the end of the film, our jaws dropped as big white snow flakes fell gently upon our faces.  It was pure magic!  A snowstorm in October!  

We found out the next day that it was the first October snow to hit London in over 70 years.  So while it was not the Halloween magic I was searching for, it was a great big slice of halloween magic nonetheless.