Rainy days.

Bristol is rainy as I have never known it. And only now, in the midst of all this gloom, am I beginning to notice her cheerful colours, splashed across the cutout of the city skyline in the style of a French Impressionist. Maybe it’s less different from Regensburg than I ever believed.

Recently: Christmas markets, nice dinners in window seats, rainy bicycle rides, essay hand-ins, my cosy cosy room, spontaneous house parties, a whole lot of laughter. I’m forgetting to take pictures, which can only mean I’m having a better time than I ever could have wished for.