Jesus, the days are flowing together. Our manic timetable (i.e. starting most days at 4.30pm) has just about eradicated my sense of time. I mean, I go to bed late as it is, but I’m not sure I can remember what midnight looks like anymore. And it occurred to me earlier that the flats we’ve chosen are a little too like halls for comfort; halls, however, where the neighbours above are Belgian and gorgeous and the neighbours below make threats when you puke on their stairs. Yep, it’s the ninth day in and we’ve had our first mega argument, making the downstairs neighbours think someone was getting e.g. axe murdered. All is settled now, and mostly people have gone out to eat. Ah, but that may be a blog too far...

I’m rambling, certainly. Lessons have started and they are, for the most part, informative. Fun too, with limited periods of boredom. Regrettably this comes with limited periods of work too; the lessons are two hours which is piss in the wind compared to Bruford. Our voice lessons are devoted to the work of the mysterious Fitzmaurice, who I believe is some sort of dark wizard. According to him (or her? Who knows?) getting tremors in your body improves your voice. There is the possibility of looking for such tremors in lessons on the beach, which suggests a gun may be required.

In the other lessons, the gentleman who replaced Jean Baixas has turned out to be a crazy Spaniard. So far we have made puppets using our hands and not much else. Unusual spaces have also been involved, alongside lists of personal likes, dislikes, and would like to dos. Trying to come up with funniest ideas possible (“Sleep in the queen’s bed, or hide in her closet whilst she is sleeping”, or indeed “Choke and eat a swan” – and why not? I suspect it would be a challenge) may have made our teacher view me as some sort of terrifying pervert, although such an exercise rather suggests the same quality in him. And he slaps you heartily. And he laughs.

In other news, shopping at the market is less terrifying now, although at least one of the wizened mad-as-a-bat fruit ladies was giving me proper evils and I still haven’t figured out why. Oh, and people don’t say thanks here when you stand out of the way for them. That’s really annoying me. We need to start using our days better, too, beyond sightseeing and being tourists. Learning about Spain for use in the theatre: that’s the way, and not just how to order beer in pints.