I think I have a bug hanging around somewhere between the back of my throat and my ears. It's quite a strange sensation as we've had not a hint of malady in the time we've been away, nor for the balance of the year as far as we can recall. It's unlikely to prove fatal but I stayed "indoors" as they say, anyway, for the entire day, while the others went to work and shops and libraries.
Staying with Shell and Jules is like staying in a halfway house, allowing us to slowly make our adjustments to the real world once again, so I suppose if one were to get a sniffle, it's best to do it in transition rather than in transit.
The flat is not too much bigger than our boat, there's just enough space to allow us to walk back and forth unimpeded providing no one else is walking back and forth at the same time and certainly there is no risk of becoming lost. It's tall enough that I haven't banged my head in a day or two, for which I am grateful, and all the scars from our previous positions should be gone quite soon. Quite noticeably there are no schools of marauding catfish watching for our every movement although I suppose that if there were, they would be three floors down and we'd hear little of them.
I'm a bit concerned about language though, steady as she goes, swapping "bonjours" for "giddays" once again and mostly getting it right. I happened across an ABC news clip on the web, and was amazed to hear the reporter spoke with inflections which to my ear were not unlike the ones I remembered Julia Gillard employing. If that is how an ABC reporter sounds to my now oh so refined and cultured ear, I wonder if I should be terrified at the prospect of having to decipher the accent of the my fellow countrymen on our return.
Perhaps it's just the bug. In a day or two my brain will have reconnected with my ears and I'll be just fine.
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