W1B-006 Medical student-0.txt
17 Florentine Way, Belfast. 29 October

Ma cherie Roisin, Ca va? Merci beaucoup pour ta carte postale.

There you are; another snippet from my extensive French repertoire. Hopefully it makes a bit more sense than my usual drunken Snackbar babblings, even though it's probably not grammatically correct. But what can you expect from a mere medical student?

Indeed my English is likely to be a little dodgy as I have only yesterday returned to civilisation after a 3-week sojourn to Derry. This was for the express purpose of looking into peoples people's ears, up their noses and down their throats. The cognesenti call it otorhinolaryngology, but most people can understand it as Ear, Nose and Throat (ENT.) As for our prowess at the subject, we certainly managed to get up a few peoples noses, but unfortunately failed miserably to get down their throats (at the discos, you understand!)

Alas it is now 16 days since I last was drunk – the longest period since you left. Only Alex and myself are big drinkers amongst the crowd banished to Derry, so there's not much drinking done there. Even back in Belfast last weekend I was sober since I was racing on Satruday. I actually went to Mulhouse completely sober…and enjoyed it. It's amazing just how much more gossip you remember without the company of Mr. Guinness.

Prior to that sobering experience I had really been doing some serious drinking. Three-legged pub crawl, Mystery tour, etc – all MUST events. We staged the customary trick played by 4th years on the 1st years on their 1st day. 2 of the lads dressed up as "Doctors" and were introduced as such by a suitably bribed lecturer. They asked alternate questions to 1st years and a few 4th year plants scattered throughout the lecture theatre. Innocent little me was asked to come up to the front and demonstrate some of the movements of the shoulder joint. All according to our hastily arranged script, except no-one told me that to do so properly required me to remove my tee-shirt and stand beetroot – faced in front of a packed lecture theatre, including about 1/2 of our year who had crammed into the back to watch the crack. Still, all in a bit of crack. Since then some of the 1st years have approached me and complimented me on my acting ability; however none of the girls have yet offered me sex having viewed my broad sinews.

We are settling in nicely into 17. The house has survived it's first christening party. The phone, however, did not fair as well – Anthony managed to miss everyone with a basin full of water – except the phone. It sounded distinctly sick for a few weeks thereafter and we diagnosed the condition as terminal and invested in a payphone.

Andrew seems to be coping admirably as the lone non-medic. Well at least technically speaking he isn't, as Gregory is a science student this year – he's doing an intercalated BSc. Sad to say, we are missing the benefits of the girls…NOT!! No more strange grunting noises from the front room brothel; no more of Jane's strange friend; able to watch the soccer on a Wednesday night in peace. Allegedly Yasmin is still operating from nearby Florentine Street, but as yet I haven't had the misfortune of bumping into her petite body.

I 'm just considering my costume for the fancy dress, next week. It can be as ridiculous as ever, but it must fulfil 3 characteristics: 1.) Cheap; 2.) Easy and not too time consuming to assemble; 3.) Not constricting on the night – I decided that the only possible reason for me not getting a tackle last year was that my face was painted green!

So how's it going yourself. I 'm glad to hear that you seem to be settling in well and are meeting loads of new people – make sure you don't get too comfortable over there, so that you don't come back to us. Have you found a suitable Guinness drinker to discretely sip away at his pints. I 've noticed I get more Guinness in my pints these days!

Do drop us a note if you get a free minute away from all the partying (and studying???) Looking forward to seeing ye at Christmas.

Best of Luck and Loads of Love, Kevin.
