In the strange way in which the mind plays with logic, I now find myself missing my aunt more now that I have returned to work than when I was in Britain. I am sure that this will pass and that the closure that I felt when I was there will become a living reality.
However, another reality is now demanding attention: the everyday life of a school. My absence has been filled with work which needs to be marked and work which will need to be continued.
The chocolates that are a necessary sweetener to colleagues after a visit (for whatever reason) to a place other than the immediate vicinity of Barcelona have been generally well received: Tesco strikes again! They will all be gone by first break!
No one has yet mentioned the holidays, but I feel that the magic date of the 15th of April is at the forefront of each and every thinking teacher’s mind. It certainly is the case with me – and the sooner we get there the better.
As is always the case in this place, there will be yet another series of examinations before the term is allowed to die and the function of the holiday period is to give us a breathing space to prepare for the next series of tests which will fill the summer term.
Any day now I will start counting the days to the end of June when the “real” holidays will start. Before these halcyon days there is the problem month of May that on my calendar is quite clean. This means that there are no occasional days, or saints’ days or anything else to break up the relentless chore of teaching day after teaching day.
The Pauls have expressed themselves open to the idea of reinstating our weekend gallivanting which characterised our time in Cardiff. Although we would be departing from different starting points we could certainly and easily join up for a continuation of the triumphal progress that we made through such cities as Berlin, Milan, Dublin, Bilbao and Venice.
The seat of the Painted Whore of the Seven Hills has been suggested for the next trip and as I have never been to the stronghold of Jimmy Red Socks I am rather taken by the idea. We will have to check the flights and hotels and see if we can meet up.
Previously we used to set an upper limit of fifty quid for the flights: this is now unrealistic and we will have to rethink our parameters. Although it is still possible to be pleasantly surprised by the low cost of some flights, one is caught by the necessity of coming back on a Sunday as work beckons on the Monday. I think we my be able to get flights for just over €100 if we are lucky. Still, it will be interesting to find out if a re-start of the weekend visit programme is possible at all.
The familiar tiredness set in as soon as I got home. Even a quick trip to town and a most unsatisfactory tortilla bocadillo were insufficient to invigorate my jaded perceptions.
I have been encouraged to believe that, given the absurd luck that characterised my unfortunate memory lapses during the visit to the UK I should invest in the chance to win the absurdly large sum of money which is now being offered to gullible punters in the Euro Millions!
In spite of my firm belief that lotteries are taxes on the stupid, I have indeed invested some of my hard earned money in a few lines: hope springs eternal!
No comments:
Post a Comment