Over the hills and far away...

Dear Readers,

Today marks the third week since my arrival to the shores of this new land. The weather of which I was warned is present, with a forecast of 'staying cloudy and damp', and although uncertain about its precise location, I am being careful to avoid the dangerous 'Midsummer' area.

On this day, I experienced some moments of complete contentment as I gazed out a library window, over my books and onto grassy pastures and heard the elaborate songs of birds. There was no other place I wanted to be, I wanted for nothing, and I thanked the Lord for his blessings. This led me to depart from the library, and venture across the pastures, where your elegant correspondent partook of a constitutional stroll around the lake's edge, before settling on a bench to learn about the terrible deeds of the Crimean War.

Upon completing my learnings, I returned to my lodgings, whereupon I perched myself elegantly on a heater to thaw my derriere. Having then fallen into conversation with various other lodgers about the Crimean War and golf, I was drawn to the conclusion that it was time to appraise you of my educational situation in this foreign country.

Each week I must participate in seven structured hours of learning, with many times this expected spent in personal studies. My classes cover topics such as Napoleon to Stalin: The struggle for mastery in Europe, Latin for Historians, and Landscape II: Built and Semi-Natural Environments. Perhaps surprisingly the latter of these is so far proving the most engaging, perhaps due partially to the enthusiastic teachings of the staff. Never before have I heard such profanities emit from an educator's mouth, but he is forgiven for his excitable delivery of them.

My lessons in Latin will perhaps be the most challenging, as we struggle to grasp the concepts of grammar not yet familiar to your dutiful correspondent. The tutor in this subject, however, is a wise woman, who I feel will not let us fail easily in our tasks. I look forward to utilising the skills from these lessons.

There is a chance your faithful correspondent will not survive her lessons about Napoleon to Stalin, as there is a great deal of ferocious boredom induced in some of the topics. This has been diagnosed as only a temporary affliction, and should pass with the coming of a World War.

As to the location, the University is becoming less of a puzzle, the city slowly falling into place on the map contained within my head.

As I end this missive to you, my loyal reader, I must reiterate my utter thankfulness to our Good Lord who has provided a safe and happy harbour for your persistant correspondent.

Your Sincerely,

Imogen